Playing the Game
by kubidubi
Summary: The 4th Quarter Quell has begun. With a deadly new arena and a new set of rules, will a group of three newfound friends be drawn closer together or pushed further apart?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This story is written around the time of the 100th Hunger Games, but without the rebellion involving Katniss ever happening. The chapters are all written through the POV of three different characters: Nato, Raven, and Lucya. The narrator's name is written at the start of each chapter.

**CHAPTER 1** NATO

The ocean water swirls around me as I dive into the depths. The net and spear weigh me down, but years of practice have made me an expert. I open my eyes. The salty water used to sting my eyes when I was a kid, but now I feel nothing more than a slight uncomfortable sensation. The water is shallow here; the shimmering schools of fish weave in and out of my sight only once in a while and I can just touch the sandy sea bottom with my feet. If I want to make a good catch, I'll have to swim out farther into the ocean.

I kick out my strong legs and propel myself against the current; further into the water. I spear a couple of fish here and there, but I want to save room in the net for the much more popular marine animals that could only be found further away from shore. I come up for breath. In front of me, the ocean stretches out infinitely. The sun is just rising over the horizon. I shield my eyes and turn back to take a look at the village. The wooden houses dot the seaside, and I can make out people beginning to go around their business. I can see my own home, built right on the water. _No_, I think. _I'm home right now. Right here. _And I plunge back into the water.

I swim out into the ocean, and, by the time I reach my favorite fishing spot, the sun has almost completely risen. Its red rays illuminate the scenery as I fish. I manage to catch two whole schools of multicolored catfish with my net. They're certainly popular in the Capitol; I might be able to sell them to the Handlers for a good price. After spearing a few shellfish off the ocean floor, I am content with the morning's catch. I knot the net and swim back to the village.

I reach the dock and pull myself onto the wooden boards. An old grey fisherman nods at me and smiles his creepy, toothless smile. I sneak a glimpse into the bucket next to him. No catch, as usual. In District Four, you basically outlive your usefulness by the time you turn thirty. The best fish are far out into the water, and older men and women don't have the strength for it. So District Four needs to have children; even though close to nobody wants to have them in fear of the Games. That's why my little brother and I were born. Not because our parents wanted us; because they needed us.

I smile at the man and throw two red catfish into his bucket. He looks at me in disbelief, as if this is something new, not something that happens every morning. "Thank you, Nato," he says, stroking the wet scales of the fish. I smile and drag the net of fish to my family's wooden cabin, built directly on our own deck jutting out into the sea. I faintly remember my parents building it with their own hands. My mother was pregnant with Atlas, and I was just six years old. Of course, that was all before the epidemic and my mother's untimely death. Since then, the boardwalk was just a cruel reminder of her. But we couldn't just get up and leave. It was the last piece of her that remained.

I knock on the cabin door. Atlas opens it, flashing his brilliant white teeth and looking up at me with his big blue eyes. He throws me a rag. "Dry yourself off, Nato," he teases. "Dad _just _swept the floor like five years ago." I grin and wipe myself off with the rag. I dry out my wavy brown hair and then squeeze the water out of the rag and into the ocean to the left of our little dock. "And put some clothes on," Atlas says, snickering, and runs back into the house.

I follow him, sighing. Of course I wasn't fishing naked. But to his perverted eight-year-old mind, the khaki shorts are practically the same thing. I see my father sitting in a chair by the window overlooking the sea. His green eyes haven't been truly happy for 8 years, and his brown hair is starting to gray at the roots. His arm is in a wrap of dirty bandages, and the scars on his face are still visible. He never told us how he got the injuries, but I can only imagine that it was something in the types of a bar fight. My father is a good man and a strong fisher, but ever since my mother's death alcohol has been a bit of an escape.

And so the past year has been terrible for us. My father no longer fishes with me, out in the depths of the ocean. Atlas tries to bargain with the Handlers as much as he can, attempting to sell the fish I catch for greater prices. So this year is also the first year in which I ever had to apply for tesserae. At only fourteen years old, my name was going to be in the reaping bowl 21 times. And later today I will find out whether or not I'll be heading to the Hunger Games arena.

My father gets up from his chair and looks at me. "Nice catch today, Nato." For a second his lips quiver up, but his eyes remain cold, green stones. People tell me I have his eyes. I honestly hope I don't. "I'll take the fish," he says, walking up to me. He grabs the net, and I am reluctant to let go. I don't know why. I let go, though, not wanting to cause any problems. He looks at me, and I make sense of the fact that his temporary smile was actually a painful grimace. "I'll go down to the square with you this year," he says. "I'll sell off the fish to the Handlers after the Reaping." There are small beads of tears in his eyes, and I am caught off guard when he wraps me in an embrace. "Thank you, Nato. For everything this year. And I'm sorry," he says, and I don't know what to do with myself. "Good luck," he whispers, letting me go.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2** RAVEN

I walk down the polluted streets of District Three, cradling the heavy plastic container in my hands. I yell out a greeting to some of my friends on the sidewalk, but they all seem too depressed to answer me. For all of us, this will be our first reaping. I've seen them before on TV at home, and all I can do is hope that I won't be picked. I stumble into my family's apartment, still making sure to gently carry the box. I gently walk up the stairs and fish out the keys to the door. I've heard that a lot of the other Districts don't even bother with keys; they just live in small huts or houses. I wonder if it is true; District Three always did seem a little more advanced than the other Districts, being the technology provider and all. Then again, I doubt that any of the other Districts are as polluted or foul as Three.

I walk into the apartment and gently set down my box on the table in the middle of the room. Our home only has three rooms: the main living area, my parents' bedroom, and a poorly plumbed bathroom. My mother reaches out her hands to me, and I fall into them.

"How was it today, Raven?" she asks, stroking my short blonde hair.

I think about it. "Pretty normal," I say. "But I heard Charge say that somebody in Sector Five of the factory nearly got electrocuted. I hope it wasn't Dad," I continue.

"No, your father wouldn't be stupid enough to get himself electrocuted on the job. Trust me," she says, and I continue to recount my day at the factory. She tells me to get myself washed up because I'm all covered in grime. I go to the bathroom and take off the dirty, once-white uniform that all the junior workers at the factory wear. I step into the compact shower and wait for the water to start trickling down. It goes really slowly, and there are bits of red in it. I assume that the pipe must've rusted over again. But, either way, this water seems to be a lot cleaner than my previous state.

So I rinse myself off and then dry myself with a towel. I notice that my mom had hung an outfit on the bathroom doorknob while I had been showering. It is a white shirt with several missing buttons and a pair of black pants that had been rolled up to hide a tear in one of the legs. I dress in the clothes and look at myself in the cracked mirror. I look odd and kind of disgruntled. I exit the bathroom and my mom immediately starts applying cheap gel to my hair to make it stay down. She stands back and looks at me.

"Why, you almost look like a little schoolboy," she comments, gleaming with both pride and hatred for the Capitol.

I decide that this is an excellent time to pop the question. "Mom, why don't I go to school like all the other boys my age?"

She frowns at me. "Well, because, if you work at the factory with your father, we'll have a bigger income in the house. And if you went to school it would be something of a waste of money. And I _will never _allow you to sign up for tesserae," she says, and I understand her reasoning.

Suddenly I remember the plastic container on the table. "Mom, guess what Charge got me as a gift for my first reaping?" She mutters something about how reapings shouldn't be celebrated with presents, but she watches as I open the box. Inside it is an old piece of machinery. It opens up and has two cracked, dusty screens. There are wires sticking out of the sides, but I think it's amazing. She looks at me quizzically, and I explain. "Charge says it's called a Nintendo DS. People used to use it before even Panem existed! He said it's some kind of game that children used to play. His family has been passing it down for generations and he gave it to me!" I look at my mom, but she doesn't look very excited. I sit down and begin toying with the wires and the machine itself. Before long, I've twisted the wires so that a blue spark emits from them and the screen comes to life. I am amazed, because Charge had told me that he had tried to repair it, to no success. But I have no time to rejoice about it, because the bells signaling the beginning of the reaping begin to ring.

I look up at my mother, terrified, but notice that she looks confused. She looks at the faintly ticking clock sitting on the table. The glass covering the hands is cracked, but it still tells time accurately. She frowns. "The reaping shouldn't be starting yet," she says. "They usually start with District One, around ten o'clock. That's still in an hour."

Our questions are answered when the television in our family room comes to life. The bells must have been signifying a mandatory Capitol broadcast. I sit down in front of the flickering screen and am joined by my mother. I see a large podium with the Capitol emblem on the front, and behind it stands the head of Panem: President Snow.

He's been in power for as long as I can remember, and my mother says that she didn't remember a different president. I can tell that he's over a hundred years old, because, unlike most Capitol citizens, he hasn't stretched out his face or dyed his hair. But he must have had some kind of operation, because he looks extremely healthy for a man his age.

Snow begins to speak in his hoarse, snake-like voice. "As you all know, later today the Reaping will take place. One boy and girl between the ages of 12 and 18 will be chosen to become tributes in this year's Hunger Games." My stomach ties itself into a little knot. "Another thing you should all know is that this year's games will be the hundredth in Panem's rich history. This means that we will all be celebrating the Fourth Quarter Quell." I grow pale. I haven't been alive for any other Quells, but my parents tell me that they're horrible; worse than any average, annual game. Snow continues, "The Quarter Quells all have special, _exciting _new rules." I can hear the roar of the Capitol audience in the background. It must be a public event. "This year, the Capitol has decided to show its mercy toward the Districts."

I sit up. _Were the games cancelled? _I think, but know that it's a hopeless thought. By mercy he probably means that the tributes will get better weapons in the arena or something of the sort. But his next words catch me off guard.

This year, the Capitol and the Gamemakers have been _generous _enough to allow for multiple victors." A confused silence falls upon the invisible crowd. "The official new rules will be announced after the reapings," says Snow, and then looks directly into the camera. "But this mercy will come at a price. Beginning next year, the age range from 12 to 18 will be dropped, and every District citizen will be eligible for the reaping." I notice how he stresses the word _every_. I realize that he really does mean every citizen. Every old woman who can't even walk, and every tiny, newborn baby.

The 101st Hunger Games will be more horrible than ever.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3** LUCYA

I leave the TV room, agitated by Snow's words. All the children and caretakers seemed to become the most upset by the news about future reapings, but to me, the rules of this year's Quell have a larger impression. _What is Snow playing at? _I think. _There has to be some reason. There have never been multiple winners in the entire history of the Games. So why would he decide to allow it?_

I storm out of the "orphanage," but it's not like I ever spend any quality time there anyway. It's a tiny, stone building with no windows and hardly any warmth. If I could escape, I would, but I know that I would have nowhere to go. This sorry excuse for a home is the only place I have. It's not even an orphanage, really. Just a house full of children with nowhere else to go, a house full of slaves to work in the fields of grain. That's all we have here in District Nine: stalks of wheat and barley stretching out for miles and miles.

I hear someone running after me as I walk into the tall wheat stalks. I figure only one person would seek my company intentionally, so I turn around. It's Dee, the little girl who took a liking to me the moment I stepped into the "orphanage" four years ago. At that point she was a little five year old girl, and I was a twelve year old who had just lost her parents. Now, when I am almost seventeen and she is nine, she bounds toward me, through the wheat. Her golden hair bounces around in a pigtail, and she looks at me with small, hazel eyes and smiles. I'm the only person I know that lives in Nine that doesn't have curly blonde hair and small brown eyes. My hair is jet black and my eyes are a shocking electric blue.

Dee reaches me and throws her arms around me. She's tiny and nearly weightless, but she's strong from working in the fields and her hug almost topples me over. Instead I grab her wrists and regain my footing on the ground.

"Hi, Lucya!" she whispers in my ear and, giggling, slips a flower into my hand. I let her go and look at it. It's red around the edges with beautiful yellow seeds in the center.

I look down at her. "Where did you get this?" I say. "I haven't seen a bed of flowers for years. Unless..." I look at her with comical disapproval. She laughs and nods. "How many times do I have to remind you not to steal from the Nanny?" I sigh, using the insulting nickname we gave the head of the so-called orphanage.

"How many times do I have to remind you not to teach me?" she says, and I wrap her in a warm embrace. This is why I love her; she's innocent as a flower, but has the same rebellious streak as I do. We weave through the wheat and sit down once we know we're too far from the stone building for the Nanny to find us. I take two stolen apples out of my pockets and give one to Dee. She takes it and bites into the green skin. I bite into mine, too, and let the sweet juice run down my chin. It's refreshing; having something else to eat other than just oats and bread.

Dee puts her apple on the ground and looks up at me. I notice her small eyes are filling up with tears. "Did you apply for tesserae?" she asks, referring to the reaping that will be taking place in a couple hours. She is safe from the Games this year, but next year, with the new rules...

"No," I say. "If I starve to death, I'd much rather do it here in the fields than in the arena with thousands of people watching."

"That's a good point," she whispers weakly. She must be contemplating whether or not I'll be reaped today. Or whether or not she'll be reaped next year. "How many times is your name in the bowl?" she asks shakily.

"Only five," I say. "Every sixteen-year-old has five slips in the bowl. And believe me, there are people who applied for tesserae and their names are in the bowls twenty or thirty times."

She still looks depressed, so I wrap my arm around her and we enjoy what may be our last day together.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4** RAVEN

I walk down the streets of District Three, strongly grasping my parents' hands. My palms are sweating and my stomach is tingling, but they don't let go and continue to console me as we get closer and closer to the square in front of the Justice Building. Around us, other families are walking their children from their homes and to the Reaping. Some older kids look solemn and stone-faced, while some younger ones are struggling and trying to escape their parents' grip. I want to do the same thing; I want to run away and hide under my covers, but I know that not attending the reaping will only result in my execution. So I walk toward the square, taking as long as possible.

We turn the corner, and I take a look at the square. I glance at the different roped-off sections and turn longingly toward the one where I stood, safe from the Reapings, all those years before. We reach a line of children waiting to be identified and sent out to the different sections, and I know that I have to say good-bye to my parents. I let go of their hands and jump into my mother's open arms. Behind her back, my dad smiles at me reassuringly. I break away the hug.

"There's thousands of slips in there, Raven. There's a very small chance that it'll be your name drawn out of there." I notice how she says that there's a very small chance, not that there's absolutely no chance. I nod because I don't want to get too worked up about it. I try to tell myself that I'll be fine, but I'm still panicked as I hug my parents one more time and leave for the line of children.

In a couple of minutes I am standing among many other boys of my age, and they all look just as stressed as me. I look around. The roped-off sections are quickly beginning to fill up, and the tension in the square rises as we draw closer to the reaping. The mere minutes feel like hours, and I'm not sure if the sweat on the back of my neck is from fear or from the sun almost directly overhead. I glance at the clock above the Justice Building doors. It's exactly eleven o'clock. I take a deep breath. The Reaping is scheduled to start any second now.

A young woman walks up onto the stage that has been set up at the top of the stairs leading to the Justice Building. She looks completely different than any other Capitol citizen I've ever seen. Her hair isn't blue or bright pink; it's a rich red color that looks as if it might even be natural, and it's drawn back in a ponytail that runs down her back. Her eyes are almost black and look like deep holes because of her excessive use of black mascara. Her grey pants and black jacket are the simplest attire I've ever seen on a Capitol citizen.

"Happy Hunger Games," she says, and even her voice is different than any other Capitol citizen's. It's much deeper and even a bit raspy. One way or the other, she doesn't look too excited about the fact that she's about to send two people to their deaths. Quite the contrary of all the other escorts. She gives a short, halfhearted speech about the rebellion and the Treaty of Treason.

Then, without saying a word, she crosses over to one of the reaping bowls on the stage. "The girls," she adds simply, and reaches her hand into the bowl. She pulls out a slip of paper and reads it out loud. "Monnie Knight." Her voice echoes throughout the square. I crane my head to see which unfortunate girl had been chosen.

A blonde girl slowly steps out of the section for fifteen year olds. She looks nervous, but she keeps her composure, and walks to the stage with her head held high. I can't help but admire her for her courage and cool-headedness.

And now it's time for the male tribute to be chosen. My heart is in my throat as the escort walks up to the second reaping bowl and plunges her hand into the mass of slips. Slowly her hand comes out and opens up the paper. She clears her throat. "Raven Walz."

Everything feels like a rush, and before I know it, I'm up on the stage, tears in the corners of my eyes. I look across the square at the section for citizens of age. I see my parents, silently crying, and Charge, looking at me with grief in his eyes. Slowly I regain focus. The red-headed escort speaks into the microphone one last time. "I give you District Three's tributes for the 100th annual Hunger Games—Monnie Knight and Raven Walz." And with that the two of us are swept into the Justice Building.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5** NATO

I stand in the main square of District Four along with all the other fourteen-year-old boys. It's my third reaping, but I feel a lot more insecure because of the twenty one slips of paper with my name on them. I remind myself that I felt just as terrified at my first and second reapings, and that I'll feel exactly the same for the next few years.

When our escort, Gannie Nourin, begins to drone on about how the Capitol has to remind us all of our crimes with the Hunger Games, I'm not even listening. Our escort is a plump woman who dyes her hair and skin an awful sea green. She is wearing a ridiculously bright blue toga and there's a tiny, golden trident piercing her nose. I wonder if it's to win over the people of District Four. If it is, then it's not working.

"Why don't we switch things up and start with the boys this year?" she says bubbly, as if this were something fun and exciting. "Okay, then!" she giggles, hitches up her toga, and wobbles over to the boys' reaping bowl. "Now, isn't this exciting?" she comments as she attempts to make her bloated hand fit into the bowl. I remember how last year she broke the girls' glass bowl trying to pick out a slip of paper.

This time, she manages to grab a name without breaking or toppling over anything, and she lifts it out of the bowl triumphantly. I know what's about to happen a moment before it does. "Nato Inderell!" she annunciates into the microphone.

I close my eyes for a moment and tell myself that there's nothing I can do to save myself from the Games. I open my eyes and, with a new found calmness, leave the crowd of kids and head toward the stage. I try not to look around too much in fear of catching a familiar face and breaking down. So I advance up the steps and only then turn around to face the crowd. I can't find my father or Atlas, but I don't have time because right then Gannie throws her arms around my shoulder. "Congratulations, Nato!" She smells like a weird combination of pickles and strawberries. I resist the temptation to gag.

I am somewhat relieved when she abandons me to select a female tribute. Once again, she tries putting her hand in the bowl. I hear her mutter something about how nobody ever listens to her request for bigger bowls. Finally, she is able to take out a handful of slips. Then she just takes one out of her palm and throws the rest back into the bowl. I wonder if this is legal. She clears her throat, sounding more like someone gurgling water, and reads off the name. "Delta Copperwood!"

Something about the name strikes me as familiar. When she walks out of the crowd, I try to realize who she is. She has dark brown hair that reaches her shoulders and curls at the ends. Her face is almost circular but with a pointed chin. Suddenly I remember. Delta used to be in one of my school classes maybe two years ago. I didn't even speak to her, but I definitely remember her.

All of a sudden I see a girl walk out of the crowd in one of the other sections. Calmly but loudly, she announces that she is volunteering in Delta's place. Delta looks relieved and darts back into the crowd, and the other girl struts toward the stage. She is tall and has long, dirty-blonde hair. From her slightly fuller body, I can tell that she must be the daughter of a Handler, which in turn means that she must be a Career. We haven't had many Careers from Four in the past few years, and I wonder why, all of a sudden, this girl just comes out of the blue.

"Wonderful!" Gannie bounces over to plop her arm around the girl. "And what's your name?"

"Indigo Keene," she says with a ruthless glint in her eyes. _Definitely a Career, _I think.

"Well, that's that!" Gannie exclaims. "I present to you the Tributes that will have the honor of representing District Four in the marvelous 4th Quarter Quell—Indigo Keene and Nato Inderell!"


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6** LUCYA

We trek through the golden plains of wheat on our way to the district square. Most of Nine is completely rural, and only one small, more urban area is built around the square. The stone building I call home is situated about an hour's walk away from the square, so every year we make the long trip down for the reaping.

The Nanny walks in front of the pack with all the little kids at her heels. Dee and I slowly walk behind them and talk quietly. I'm the oldest kid at the orphanage, and the only one eligible for the Games. From what I've heard, the Nanny sends the children off to "real" fields by the time they turn sixteen. So, from the looks of it, I'll be saying good-bye to Dee anytime soon. The thought scares me more than the prospect of being a Tribute. But then again I'd have to leave her anyway.

Dee and I softly whisper about everything, anything except for the reaping. I know she's more terrified than I am, and I'm doing it more for her than for me. Our hike through the grain goes by awfully fast, and I am reluctant to let go of Dee's hand when we reach the square.

"It'll be all right," I tell her. "I didn't apply for tesserae; I'm practically safe from the Games. My name is only in there a couple of times."

She nods and gives me a hug. Then she darts into the roped-off section for citizens who are not in danger of being chosen. The Nanny quickly corrals the rest of the children between the standing people. I am about to leave to register, but she pulls me to the side, away from where the kids would hear us. She looks distressed. She wrings her hands a couple of times and then speaks, as if unsure whether she should be saying this or not.

"Lucya, there's something I have to tell you," she finally says slowly. "There are a lot of mouths to feed at the orphanage, and almost all of the grain we produce is sent off to the Capitol..."

I shrug. "Yeah, I know. Is that it?"

"No." She looks down at the ground. "You see, you're the only person in the entire orphanage who is eligible for the Hunger Games. And, well, just by ourselves we wouldn't be able to feed all you kids and keep you from starving. So, well, you have to understand why I did it..." I start to understand what she's getting at. "Lucya, I registered you for tesserae."

My throat feels dry. "How many times?" I ask with barely suppressed rage.

"Ninety-eight," she whispers.

Next thing I know I'm screaming at her, bolting out every bad opinion Dee and I had ever shared in secret. She disappears into the crowd, hiding her head in her hands. I'm aware that I'm making a scene and two Peacekeepers approach me from behind and drag me to a small desk, where a woman pricks my finger with some device. The Peacekeepers shove me into a group of sixteen-year-old girls, which look at me oddly. I become aware that I'm still yelling, so I stop. By now everyone is looking at me. I straighten out my horrible black dress. _Fine. I'm going to end up being in the Games anyway so I might as well make a scene._

I pat down my hair and throw a sarcastic smile at a camera, which I know is filming. My quick act of defiance must've angered some official back at the Capitol, because a woman is quickly rushed onto the stage, pressing her finger to her ear as if listening to an earpiece. She stands up in front of the microphone and starts her speech on the Hunger Games.

District Nine's escort is a thin woman named Missy Amberson. Her skin has been powdered completely white and her eyes and lips are bright pink. Her wig is extremely curled and also a blend of white and pink. She is wearing a ridiculous green skirt and pink jacket. A bunch of little pins and buttons cover her jacket, but I don't care to try to figure out what they read.

She finishes her speech. "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever _in your favor!" She clicks over to the girl's reaping bowl. "Ladies first!" she squeaks. I am not in any way surprised when the name she picks out is mine. "Lucya Tennish!" she says into the microphone. I step out of the group of girls, who aren't exactly looking at me with respect or even pity. I don't know if it's my attitude or just my appearance, but most people tend to hate me on sight. Not as if I cared.

As I get closer to the stage, the escort beckons me to come up the steps and exclaims, "Congratulations!" Without hesitation, I show her the finger. Her lips form a perfect "O" and I hear several people in the audience laughing. Missy grabs me by the arm, her fake pink nails digging into my skin. "_Manners," _she whispers into my ear and plants me down next to her. Then she walks over to the boy's reaping bowl and picks out a slip of paper. When she reads the name, she does it halfheartedly as if I really hurt her. "Olive Pointe."

The shaken boy slowly appears out of the thirteen-year-old section. He has the signature District Nine look. His hair is blonde and curled and he has a small nose and tiny, hazel eyes. He comes up the steps and Missy welcomes him, but her congratulations are still half-spirited. I'm pleased that I found a way to shut her up and to show the Capitol and every other tribute not to mess with me.

Missy tells us to shake hands. I reluctantly follow her orders. The boy looks terrified and his hand is sweaty and shaking. I give it a squeeze to show I'm supporting him. But in the end it all comes down to one thing. I don't want to make any friends in the arena, because it'll only be harder to watch them die. I promise myself that I won't even flinch when his cannon sounds in the arena. And with that I let go of his hand.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7** RAVEN

I sit in the tiny room, waiting for my three minutes with my family. I still can't believe I'm here, that I was chosen to go and fight in the Hunger Games. I think about the next couple of weeks and the tragedies they'll bring. I already know I won't survive the Games. The Careers usually win anyway, and, if not, the Tributes from the other Districts at least have some special skill. I have nothing. Except for working in a factory, but how will that even help me? In addition, I'm only twelve, meaning that I'll most likely be the youngest person in the arena. No twelve-year-old has ever won before.

The door opens and my parents rush into the room. We exchange a hug and a few words of good-bye, but the time goes by unusually fast. Two Peacekeepers come into the room and order my parents to leave. "I love you!" I scream out after them, but the door is already closed. I press up against it, sobbing. Then it opens again and Charge comes in.

He sits me down on the bench and kneels down in front of me. I look at his rugged face, into his grey eyes to find comfort. "Look, Raven. More than one can win this year. You _have to _team up with a group, and it has to be a strong, trustworthy group," he says. "_Listen to me. _During the training, it's critical that you get a good score. Show the Gamemakers your skills with wires; you're amazing. That way the other Tributes know you'll be a good addition to their team. Avoid the Careers. Don't go towards the Cornucopia. And be likable for the cameras. You won't be able to survive without Sponsors." His talk is more comforting than anything my parents had said. Charge is telling me how to survive. And that's the most important thing right now. "I wanted to volunteer for you, Raven. I really did. But last year was my last year of eligibility, you know that." I nod as the Peacekeepers come back into the room. Charge stands up. "I'll see you when you get back, Raven." And he's gone.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8** NATO

Once inside the Justice Building, Gannie directs us into two different rooms. Indigo goes off to the right, and I enter a room on the left of the corridor. It's a small room with two plush, sea-green sofas on opposite sides. I sit down on one of them while the Peacekeepers close the door behind me. I wait for my family to show up and say good-bye. After about a minute of waiting, Atlas bounds into the room, closely followed by my father. Atlas extends his arms and sits down on the sofa next to me. I return the hug and look at my dad, who is sitting on the other sofa.

"Dad, no more drinking," I say simply but gravely. "Your arm is almost healed; you have to start fishing again. How else are you going to support Atlas? He's great at making a deal, but we all know he's no good at fishing." Normally Atlas would protest, but now he just looks down at his feet. "And Haggle—that old man that sits out on the dock with no catch every morning—you have to help him out too. That's the only way he's been able to scrape by, with our help. If anything, let him live with you." My father nods, but the atmosphere is that of me giving my final requests. Which they might as well be.

Atlas hugs me again. "Good luck, Nato," he says. "I know you'll do great. You can swim and you can handle a spear. Your aim for fish is incredible."

"For _fish_," I remind him. "Not for people." We spend several more seconds together before they are forced to leave. I've never seen Atlas in such a horrible state, and it's also the first time I see him cry. I want to get up and comfort him, but the Peacekeepers push me away and shut the door in my face.

My next visitor is Haggle himself. He thanks me for all those mornings in which I saved him and his family from starving. He grabs my hand with his own wrinkly, shaking ones, and tells me good-bye. Then he hobbles away and closes the door behind him.

I am surprised when the door opens again, and even more surprised to see who is standing on the threshold. It's Delta, the girl who was originally reaped earlier. She closes the door and then leans against it.

"Hi," I say awkwardly.

She nods. "I was going to go to that blonde girl to thank her for volunteering, but I figured it would make no sense, because, let's face it, she's a Career. Besides, I'd rather see you instead."

"We were in the same history class, weren't we?" I ask.

Delta shrugs. "I know you from somewhere. Good luck, by the way." I smile before she adds "You'll certainly need it." Then she pulls something out from around her neck. "This was supposed to be my token in case I ever got reaped," she says. "I want you to have it." She takes it and places it in my hand. It's a small fish, hand-carved out of wood and strung onto a strip of leather. I can't help but wonder why she would give it to me.

"Thank you," I say, looking back up at her. Her green eyes look back at me with a kind of fire.

"Though if you win, I want it back." For a flicker of a second she smiles and then leaves.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9** LUCYA

My first visitor is Dee. She looks like she has been crying her eyes out ever since my name was called, because her eyes are red, her face is wet, and she's constantly sniffling. I hug her immediately and tell her that I'll be fine, that I'm going to win the Games and come back to her.

But she only starts crying even more. Between sobs, she is able to choke out a few words. "But Lucya, to win you have to kill at least one kid. If you _do _come back, you—you—you won't be yourself anymore!" she wails.

"No, Dee," I tell her. "More than one person can be victor. I won't have to kill _anybody_." But the bottom line is that, if I'm threatened, I won't be reluctant at killing another Tribute in the arena. She can't hear my thoughts and is temporarily comforted, so we sit down and talk a little. I try to make her laugh, but I only succeed in making her feel worse. When the Peacekeepers barge into the room, she bursts out into tears again and has to be carried out. I hear her screaming in the hallway and for the first time since my parents' deaths I begin to get choked up. But it passes when the Nanny walks into the room.

_"You,"_ I hiss at her.

"Look, Lucya, I'm so sorr—" she starts, but, before she finishes her sentence, my palm flies against her face. I don't know what made me lose control, but she certainly deserved it. She seems to think so too, because she doesn't say anything.

My voice is once again shaking with anger. "_Fine. _Use my tesserae. But before you _over-indulge," _Every kid at the orphanage knows that the Nanny eats way more than she should when the rest of us are starving, "you feed the kids. You'll feed them more than enough; especially Dee. And when the Games come on and I'm killing someone or dying, you don't let her watch."

"But the Capitol—"

"I don't care about the Capitol. If they find out then you take responsibility for it, and you go to jail. But don't ever let her watch me in those kinds of scenes."

She gives up arguing and nods.

"And, lastly, remember that when I'm killed, think about me and every Tribute I killed, and know that it's because of _you._" The door opens and the Peacekeepers come in, but I just shove her into their grasp. They catch her and drag her out of the room. I aim a kick at the mocking, decorative baseboard running along the wall.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10** RAVEN

I hear nothing but my blood rushing in my ears. Everything is blurred and hazy, as if the world is wrapped tightly in cotton. I hear talking all around me, people yelling and the occasional flash of a camera, but I am too astounded to care. A hand is placed on my back and I am ushered forward into a sleek, silver train. The doors slam shut and the voices die down. I try my hardest to snap out of this trance I seem to be in. It helps when the red haired escort speaks.

"You okay?"

Immediately after that question, she scoffs and adds, "No, never mind. You're not."

She's different. She lacks the upbeat attitude and peppiness of other escorts I've seen on television.

"Go on. Sit," she commands, and I slowly, hesitantly take my place on the soft, cushiony couch next to the girl tribute.

"I'll get the mentor," the escort says, and she leaves the compartment, her red ponytail swinging about. The girl, Monnie, and I just sit there silently. I take a moment to take a better look at her. She has long, golden blonde hair that reaches past her shoulders and District Three's grey eyes. She's not too tall for her age, and I am only a little bit shorter.

I try to find some kind of conversation starter. "So, um, there can be more than one winner this year... So, um, maybe we could work together?" I wonder how she'll respond.

"Sure." She says it firmly but warmly, and yet she doesn't even look at me. I don't know what to do in this kind of situation, so I sink further into the cushions.

In a couple of minutes our escort returns, followed by a thin young woman with black hair and grey eyes. The escort leans up against one of the windows in the compartment as our mentor sits down across from us. I remember her; she must've won only a couple of years ago. I place her age to be somewhere between twenty and twenty-two. She sits down and looks at us. When she speaks, her voice is thin, but deep. "Hi, my name is Kai and I'll be your mentor for the Games."

Suddenly I recognize her. She won the 96th Hunger Games, when I was eight years old. She was the only victor from District Three that ever won during my lifetime. I try to remember how she won the Games. She had stayed idle for most of it and survived until the final two. Unable to bring herself to kill the remaining Career, she trapped him in a deep hole and fed him parts of her food supply every day. After three days the Gamemakers sent in muttations to finish him off and crowned her victor. She hadn't won of talent or fighting skill; she was just likable enough to be chosen to be spared by the Gamemakers. She's the greatest mentor I could have asked for.

"Now, I know what you're thinking," says Kai. "I'll be no help to you in the games, will I? And I agree with you, it's just that Three has just me as a living victor." I realize it's true. The only Games other than Kai's that I've ever seen have ended in a Career winning. Usually Two or One, occasionally Four.

"So what advice do you have for me—us?" Monnie asks, and I get a little uncomfortable by her use of the word "me."

Kai seems to sense it too because she goes on quickly. "It's a special year, you two know that already. Multiple victors are allowed. Now, I don't know the specific rules yet, I assume we'll all find out when we arrive in the Capitol. The best thing you can do in this kind of situation is be _likable. _You can form large alliances and you can all survive. And you have to make sure the Capitol loves you. It's the only way I survived."

I raise an eyebrow. "But I thought you just hid and managed everything on your own?"

"Oh, I did," explains Kai. "But when it came down to me and that Career Tribute, and I trapped him in the hole, I only survived because the Sponsors liked me. You see, after three days of me keeping him alive, the Gamemakers held a poll amongst the Sponsors to see who would get targeted by the muttations. And, from the looks of it, I was a lot more popular in the Capitol."

It's obviously an uncomfortable situation for Kai, because she stands up. "It's getting late. The two of you should take showers and just go to bed. Tomorrow morning we'll watch the Reaping tape, and we should be in the Capitol by evening. Good night." She leaves the compartment. Monnie follows her and I am left alone with the red-haired escort.

"Go," she says. "Go on."

I get up to leave, but the woman's mysterious character makes me stay. I don't know how to start asking her who she is, so I ask, "We're going to be seeing a lot of each other for the next few days, so I might as well get to know your name..."

She looks into my eyes for the first time. Her eyes are pitch black and I feel like I'm looking into an infinite tunnel. She doesn't look scary or disturbing, though. No matter how black those eyes are, I know she's on my side.

"Just call me Red," she says, and leaves the compartment.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11** NATO

The inside of the silver train is, in a way, spectacular. The ornate chandeliers hang above polished tables laden with food. Indigo sits down and starts eating almost immediately, but I don't feel too eager. These pastries, pies, and fancy furniture are all a mocking insult to any Tribute that comes in here. Just a reminder that they're only spoiling us now to kill us later. So I grab a loaf of the signature, salty District Four bread and sit down across from Indigo.

Gannie, our escort, bounds into the room. "Eat up, darlings; you have to look good for the Games!" She pats my cheek with her plump hand. "It won't be half as fun watching you fight without getting to see the pretty side of you first!" I begin to feel a deep hatred toward this woman. Most escorts seem to feel for their Tributes, but this one just keeps reminding us how entertaining it'll be to watch us die. She adjusts her sea-green wig. "Now, I'll go get your wonderful mentors. _Oh, _their games were absolutely _wonderful! _Such _fantastic _killings! Especially..." she leaves the compartment, still talking to herself.

I finish my bread and look at Indigo. Her blue eyes are cold and fierce, and I am thoroughly convinced that she's a Career. Once we're in the arena, she'll become my enemy, so I might as well get some background information on her. "So, how long have you been training?"

She smiles proudly and cruelly. "Ten years. Since I was eight. How about you?"

I'm surprised that she hasn't figured me out yet. I make a mental note to myself. _She's strong, but stupid. _"Oh, I haven't been training. I just got Reaped. I'm not a Career."

She smiles even more. "Bummer. Don't worry, District Four still has a chance with me. And, in the arena, I'll just kill you quickly and painlessly."

I raise an eyebrow. _Is that supposed to be comforting? _I'm not sure how to respond to that, but I don't have to when our mentors come in. Most Districts only have one mentor, but since Four is occasionally a Career district, we usually have more than one victor happy to take the job. I look at our mentors.

The first one is an extremely tall and muscular man that looks to be around 35. His hair is a bright blonde and he has murderous green eyes. I'm not old enough to remember his Games. The other mentor is a younger woman who looks like she's in her late twenties. She's shorter than the other one, but just as muscular. She has stringy brown hair, stormy blue eyes, and overly-tan skin. I can tell from their physiques that they were both Careers. I'm not satisfied one bit.

They both sit down at the table. The man speaks first. It's only a few minutes into the conversation when I decide I don't want any help from these two past victors. They would turn me into someone I'm not; convince me to enjoy the deaths of others. So I stand up from the table. "Thank you for the time, but I'd rather figure everything out on my own." I push in my chair and leave the compartment. I close the door, but I can hear Indigo and the mentors laughing and poking jokes at me. I'll show them. I'll win the Hunger Games without having to kill _anyone_, and I'm going to save as many other Tributes as I can.


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12** LUCYA

Missy sits the two of us down on a comfortable couch in one of the train cars. Then she finds a remote and touches its screen, obviously selecting some kind of option. "Now, just wait a second for me, I have to find the Reaping tapes." As she scrolls down the list of programs to watch, I take a closer look at her. She's powdered her face completely white except from some hot pink around her eyes and lips. Her pink jacket is in fact littered with buttons and pins with lettering on them.

I squint to make out what they say. They look like some kinds of collection pieces. They're certainly odd. A large number of them have the face of a woman who dresses similarly to Missy on them. Others have the name "Effie" or "Effie Trinket" emblazoned across. Numerous other have phrases like "I just love that!" or "That is mahogany!" or "That's the Trinket!" I expect that last one to be some kind of play on the word "ticket." Whoever this "Effie" person is, Missy certainly seems to be a fan.

"Oh! There it is!" she says and selects something with her long fingernails. The wall in front of us comes to life, the Panem seal appears, and the Reapings begin. Olive grows tense next to me, and I wonder just how horrible the Reapings will be.

First, they show the District One Reaping. Of course, two Careers, with equally ridiculous names. Velvet and Ruby. Seriously, who names their kids that? Next, the District Two tributes. Once again, both Careers. They look like they could be a challenge. The boy, Pyro, has a malicious glint in his eyes, and the girl, Cree, looks incredibly strong. I watch as a pale little boy named Raven is chosen from District Three. His eyes fill up with tears and I can't help but feel sorry for him. Next is Four. The girl's a Career, but it seems like the guy isn't. I size him up. He's tall and looks pretty strong, but just from the short look I feel like he won't be up to killing anyone. District Five seems pretty normal but I get quite a shock during the District Six Reaping.

The female tribute is chosen first; an 18-year-old by the name of Dane. She walks out of the crowd, shaking. I can tell from her bloated belly that she's pregnant. I can't quite wrap my head around it, when, by the time she's onstage, still no one has volunteered. I hear Missy muttering "Oh, how unfortunate." The male tribute is picked but is quickly volunteered for by a young man who looks to be eighteen as well. He practically runs onto the stage, and, before the escort even has time to ask who he is, he wraps the girl, Dane, in a passionate embrace. I hear Olive choke out a sob next to me, and I feel angry at the Capitol for letting this happen.

The boy from Seven looks pretty strong, but the girl bursts into tears and has to be carried to the stage by the Peacekeepers. The pair from Eight seems perfectly average, and I sit up in my seat to watch the Reapings from our District.

The camera begins by showing me in an absolute rage, kicking and screaming out at the Peacekeepers dragging me away. Then I notice that the Capitol didn't broadcast the smile I sent at the camera. Or, after my name was called, the way I gave Missy the middle finger. Olive's name is chosen, and, once again, I watch him shakily come up the steps.

I don't pay much attention to the tributes from Ten and Eleven, but I feel horrible when a tiny, twelve-year old girl with olive skin and black hair is picked out from Twelve. And then Missy turns off the TV. "Well, I think we've had quite an exciting day. You two should just wash up and go to bed."

I stand up. "Wait a minute. Aren't you forgetting something?"

Missy frowns as if she was hoping this wouldn't come up.

"Yeah," Olive finally says something. "Where's our mentor? Don't all the Districts get a mentor?"

Missy frowns even more. "Well, um, District Nine's last victor was killed in a Puguar attack four years ago, so no other is currently alive. Lucya, you should know all about it, he being your father and—" She stops, as if sensing she said the wrong thing. A flood of memories from the worst year in my life hits me full-force. Coming home from school to find out both my parents were ambushed by a pack of bloodthirsty muttations. Packing up a small amount of my belongings and leaving Victor's Village to live in the orphanage. Doing back-breaking work in the fields so that some lady could live comfortably.

I storm past Missy and leave the compartment, making sure to slam the door as hard as possible.


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13** RAVEN

I am running through a dense forest. Twigs and dead leaves litter the floor. Something is chasing me, but I don't know what. I look over my shoulder to see what it is, but my foot catches on a branch and I fall over. I turn over to lie on my back. A group of teenagers that look to be over seven feet tall advance onto me. I try to scream but the spear gets caught in my throat.

I wake up, panting. The nightmare felt so real. I realize that it is going to be real in a few days' time. Everything except for the Careers being seven feet tall. Then again, I haven't seen the Reaping tape yet. Red, the escort, knocks on the door and comes into my room.

"You were screaming," she says.

I nod slowly. "Yeah. I had a dream about the Hunger Games."

"I get it." She leaves without another word. I get out of the bed, which is more comfortable than anything I've ever slept in. I notice that the sheets are all soaked through with my sweat. I wonder what to do about that, but I decide to just leave it and take a shower.

It's a luxury compared to what I had back home in District Three. The water runs quickly yet softly, and no rust is to be found. I play around with all the different features it has to offer, noticing how my wet fingers don't affect the touch screen in any way. I spend nearly an hour in the shower, and when I leave my room and get to the dining car, everyone is already there.

Kai is buttering a piece of toast and making small talk with Monnie, who is eating a croissant with jam. Red sits alone in one of the couches, not touching a thing. I sit down at the table in a seat next to Monnie, across from Kai.

Kai puts her toast down. "Excellent," she says. "Monnie and I have both had enough to eat; you should eat something." I follow her suggestion and hungrily dig into the food. "I didn't want to start any mentoring without the both of you here, so I'll just wait for you to finish, Raven," Kai says and bites into her toast. I nod, my mouth stuffed full of pancakes.

I finish my meal and Kai starts giving us advice. She completely steers clear of suggestions on how to kill people. She tells us to stay away from the Cornucopia and to make alliances. She reminds us about the sponsors and a lot of other things essential to surviving the Games. After about an hour, she finishes and Red finally walks up to the table.

"Come on, you two, I have to show you the Reaping tapes."

She leaves the compartment, and Monnie and I get up and push in our chairs. "How about you, Kai? Are you coming?" I ask.

"Oh, no, I saw them yesterday with your escort. Besides, I'm staying here," she smiles, pointing to the endless food on the table. Monnie and I laugh and leave the room. I close the door behind us.

"Which way do we go?" I ask Monnie, because I'm not sure in which direction down the hallway Red went.

"The TV room is that way," she points, but before we go she says something else. "Hey, Raven, I'm sorry about how I came off yesterday. It's just that, well, I've seen lots of Tributes kill their allies or have their allies killed. It's horrible, and I just didn't want that to happen to me..."

I nod. "I know, that's what I've been thinking, too. But how else are we supposed to survive?"

"Yeah, Monnie says. "And, I would really love being in an alliance with you. Maybe if we work together well enough we can both make it out? Maybe a double victory for District Three?"

I smile. "Yeah, that would be great."


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14** NATO

I leave my bedroom compartment and walk down the hall to get to the dining car. Through the little glass window set in the door, I see that the room is empty but the dark table is already laden with food. Good, I can eat in peace without Indigo or the Career mentors. I pull open the door and dig into the food. I decide to abandon my aversion to anything the Capitol provides me, knowing I should probably maintain my health before going into the arena.

As I eat my breakfast my mind begins to wander. I wonder what the arena will be this year. The Gamemakers have used densely wooded forests too many times now, and even jungles and bleak deserts seem to be getting boring to the Capitol citizens. I wonder what they could possibly pull out of their sleeves to make the Games more interesting this year. It is the Quarter Quell, after all. Sure, there can be multiple victors, but there has to be something to spice it up. The Gamemakers would have to make sure that all the Tributes don't just put down their weapons and stop fighting. I assume they have a way to pit us all against each other, just like in the regular Games. I don't know about anyone else, but I see through the whole "multiple victors" idea. I can just tell there's some kind of catch. It's just a scam to give us all a false sense of security.

I finish eating and I'm not exactly sure about what I should do. Gannie mentioned something about watching the Reaping tape today, but, from the looks of it, none of my companions have even woken up yet. So I take a final drink of orange juice and leave the compartment. For a while I wander around the train, taking a look at all its different rooms and amenities. We won't even have the chance to use most of it; this train was built for wealthy Capitol citizens on long trips.

I come to a door which I know is the TV room, and I decide not to wait for everyone else to watch the Reapings. As much as I hate the Reapings, I have to know who I'll be up against. I enter the room and scan it quickly. There's a huge, bright red sofa facing a bare wall. The floor is hardwood and maple furniture stands in the corners.

I sit down on the sofa, on which there lays a small, complicated-looking remote. I pick it up and attempt to figure out its functions. I touch the screen, and it comes to life. I had some difficulty with the showers last night; we're not exposed to much technology in my village. It takes me about half an hour to find the option that says "100th Hunger Games (Reaping)." I select it with my finger.

In front of me, the bare wall turns into a huge screen with the Capitol emblem on it. I watch as the Reapings begin. In my head, I begin to take mental notes on who to watch out for.

_Both Velvet and Ruby from One. Definitely Pyro and Cree from District Two. They'll be tough to beat. Indigo from back home. Possibly Grit, the boy from District Five. Maybe Marg from Six, who will most likely do anything to protect his girlfriend and unborn child. That girl from Nine could cause some trouble. _

I also try to figure out who would make a good ally. _The boy from Three looks really innocent, but the girl from his district would probably make a better ally. Maybe I can team up with the District Six tributes and help save the girl and baby. The girl, Maple, from Seven... she won't manage on her own. But, then again, she could be harmful to the team. _I'm still unsure about Lucya, the girl from District Nine. She could prove to be either an excellent ally or a horrible enemy. My heart pangs when a tiny girl named Kaulie is drawn from District Twelve.

I shut off the TV, knowing that most of these people (including me, most likely) won't come out of that arena alive.


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER 15** LUCYA

I leave the breakfast table as soon as I finish eating and go to my room. The atmosphere during the meal was tense, as if Missy and Olive were still thinking about Missy's mention of my father. I reach my room and close the door, making it clear that no one should follow me. I don't want to, but I recall everything I had before I lived at the orphanage.

My father was the victor of the 71st Hunger Games. When I was born 13 years later, my family and I had everything. A roof over our heads, a comfortable home, and food always on the table. I felt guilty around the other girls at school because they all knew I had things they could never even dream of: toys, dolls, even something as little as dessert at the end of each meal. I tried to be nice to them. I let them play with my toys, I shared my food with them, and I even let them keep some of my pricier belongings. But nothing helped; they all hated me for having a wealthy father. They called me lucky. But they were the lucky ones. They didn't have to live with the knowledge that their father had killed innocent children to survive. Everyone started avoiding me, and I stopped trying to please them.

And then it happened. I came back from school one day only to find out both my parents were dead. The Peacekeepers told me they were walking through the fields outside the main city when they were attacked by a pack of Puguars. Puguars are the muttations that roam the fields of District Nine. They're like huge, golden-brown jaguars, but with completely flat faces. They blend in perfectly with the wheat in our fields, and are deadly when threatened.

I was forced to quickly pack up just a few of my belongings and then I was shipped off to the orphanage, to truly work for the first time in my life. I met Dee, and we became excellent friends. I quickly learned that Puguar attacks were common while working in the fields. Several children, including Dee, had small injuries because of them. Luckily, only large packs are life-threatening. When a little boy from the orphanage was mauled by a group of the muttations, I decided never to let it happen again. I learned how to work with medicine to help anyone hurt by the Puguars, and I was quickly better than the Nanny herself. Through my work in the fields, I became stronger, and any Puguar that threatened any of the orphanage kids would immediately have its neck snapped by me. As revenge for the boy who died. For Dee's injuries. For my parents.

I hear a knock on the door, and Olive comes into my room. I look up at him from my position on the floor. "What do you want?" I snap.

He shuffles his feet. "I'm really sorry to hear about your parents. I had no idea that your dad was a victor... and... about the Puguar attack, I'm so sorry."

I nod slowly.

"And, well, I know this is a really horrible thing to ask of you, but your father _was _supposed to be our mentor and all, so I just want to know if, maybe, you would have some tips on how to survive?"

I sit up. I think about it. Technically, I shouldn't give him pointers because he might ust use them against me. Then again, mmore than one tribute can win this year. And he doesn't look like the kind of kid that would be able to kill anyone. So I shrug. "Sure, why not?"

We sit down on my bed and start talking about the Games.


	16. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER 16** RAVEN

When we finish watching the Reaping tape, Red takes a quick look at her watch and says that we should be in the Capitol in about an hour. She doesn't look happy at all. I can tell that she hates the Capitol as much as anyone in the districts does. But why? Nothing about her makes sense. She lives in the Capitol, but obviously has a deep repulsion towards it. She's an escort for the Hunger Games, which are the worst thing the Capitol has to offer. And I'm almost positive that she didn't give me her real name.

Red leaves the compartment, and Monnie and I are left alone in our large blue armchairs. "What did you think of the Reapings and Tributes?" she asks. "Do you think there was anyone we could team up with?"

I think about it. "Maybe that boy from Four, I think his name was Nato. Then again, he might be a Career."

Monnie nods. "That what I was thinking. I don't know if it's safe to trust anyone from the Career districts. Even if that guy isn't a Career, the other girl from his District might convince him to join by the time the Games start." She makes a great point.

"How about the pair from District Six?"

She bites her lip. "I don't know. I mean, I feel for them, I really do, I just... I mean, I still have to think about my own survival, Raven! I just... A pregnant girl would be difficult to take care of, and she won't be able to do any physical activity..."

I nod, pretending to agree with her. "I know what you mean," I do see her point, but that wouldn't stop me from helping the girl anyway. "We should only pick people beneficial to the group."

We talk a little about all the Tributes, and I pretend to agree with her when she says that we can't risk letting that person into our group. After around a quarter of an hour, we've created a team, most of which Monnie wanted. Nato, that boy from Four. Grit, the really tough-looking Tribute from Five. Ray from Eight. Lucya, the screaming girl from Nine. And Kane, the tall, scraggly teen from District Eleven.

"We'll do great together," Monnie says and smiles. I smile back, still not sure of whether or not I want to be her ally. For the time being, though, I think I should get to know her and become good friends with her. She seems like she knows what she's doing, and, since more than one tribute can win, I won't have to worry about losing her. So we stay in the TV compartment, talking about our different skills and strategies.

"Everyone tells me I'm great with technology," I tell her. "You know, like building stuff or rewiring old things. Typical District Three."

She laughs. "Yeah, me too! When I come back from school I love toying around with a bunch of wires my parents bring home from the factory. I've been able to make light and even small explosions with them."

I raise my eyebrows. _Impressive_. "Yeah, I like working with things more like electricity, and how it can kind of 'flow' through wires... Do you think we'll have a chance to use something like that in the arena?

Monnie shrugs. "Maybe. If we show the Gamemakers what we can do with technology, maybe they'll make sure to put wires and gears in the Cornucopia. They'll probably think we'll make it more exciting by electrocuting someone."

"Which we won't," I add.

"Of course not!" she says defensively. "All I'm saying is that if they _think _that's what we're going to do in the arena, then they'll make sure we get the wires. And then we'll have a good back-up weapon."

I nod, because it's a good idea. We have to trick the Gamemakers into believing we want to set some kind of electrical trap. Which won't be too difficult. They're always happy to see some Tribute die in a different, less common way.

Red opens the door and comes into the room. "We're here."


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER 17** NATO

Gannie sits me and Indigo down at the dining table. Outside the windows, I can see that the mountains we're in are getting more and more civilized. We must be nearing the Capitol. I wonder if there'll be any opportunities to go swimming there. It's only been two days, but I miss the ocean. It's the only place that I feel complete. Judging from the terrain outside the train, my hopes of a larger body of water are futile.

Gannie starts talking in her ridiculously high, bubbly voice. Her multiple chins bob about as she speaks. "We'll be reaching the Capitol in about an hour, so I think it would be best if we made a little plan for the next few days. What do you think? Doesn't that sound great?" Indigo and I sit silently in our chairs. Gannie clears her throat. "First, you'll meet your stylists and prep team. They'll make you look pretty and dress you up for the opening ceremony." She looks at us. "That poor prep team; just look at you two! You look positively ghastly! It's no wonder their pay is so grand." Once again, Gannie manages to show off just how clueless she is. "The opening ceremony will be tomorrow evening, and after that you'll have a day of preparations for your interviews. And then that next evening will be the interviews themselves. Remember to make an impression, it's no fun to watch you die if we don't know you!" she pats Indigo's cheek with her pudgy hand, and she grimaces. Gannie frowns. "Oh, Indigo, you're going to have to work on your smile if you want to look good. You almost look as if you're angry!" she laughs. "Okay, after the interviews, you'll have three days of training, at the end of which the Gamemakers will give you your training score. And the next morning you'll be off to the arena, for the fun to start!" she gets out of her chair and bounces over to the door. She leaves the compartment, and Indigo and I are left alone at the dining table.

"I'm going to talk to the mentors," she says, getting up from the table. I wonder if I should follow her. Up to this point, I've been doing everything wrong. I don't have any preparation for the Games, except from what I've seen on past Hunger Games on TV. The mentors will be the ones talking to the Sponsors, and I haven't exactly gotten the District Four mentors' good side. Of course they'll focus all their efforts on Indigo when we get into the arena, and they'll completely ignore me. I shunned their training, didn't I? And even if Indigo dies before I do, I doubt that the mentors would help me out. From the looks they give me in the halls, I can tell they'd much rather see me die than bring a victory to District Four. And now it won't help if I join Indigo to see them. For one, I'm positive that the mentors wouldn't want to teach me anything. Secondly, I don't want to step all over the reason I quit the training in the first place.

So I come up with a new strategy. From what I've heard, all the Tributes train together in the Training Hall. That means that I'll be able to walk around and get to meet the others; get to know what they're good at. I can join an alliance before we're even in the Games, a huge alliance with lots of members. As many as possible, because, that way, a lot more people will get out of the arena alive. And not only that, but their mentors might send down gifts from sponsors, which will in turn benefit me.

The compartment is plunged into darkness when the train enters a tunnel. I get out of my seat and walk over to the window. Every once in a while, bright white lights attached to the sides of the tunnel illuminate the room. And then the train rolls out of the tunnel and I take my first look at the Capitol. It's getting dark, and the sun is just setting behind the extensive amount of skyscrapers and other buildings. The train pulls into a station, where I see a huge crowd of Capitol citizens. Every one is a different color; their hairstyles are completely ridiculous and their outfits are beyond reasonable description. They're all pointing fingers at me and cheering.

Behind me, I hear Indigo barge into the compartment to look out the window. She starts waving and smiling at the Capitol citizens, who simply can't wait to see us die. I, however, decide to leave the window and sit back down at the table. I refuse to play their sick, twisted game.


	18. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER 18** LUCYA

After a long talk with Olive, we decide to leave my room and go get something small to eat. On the way to the dining car, we run into Missy. I grab her shoulder. "Come on, you need to explain some things to us," I say, pulling her along until we reach our destination. Olive sits down at the table, but I remain standing. Missy smoothes down her pink skirt and straightens her blue and pink wig, muttering something about manners. I notice that she's got around twenty more Effie Trinket buttons on her jacket. After making sure she looks perfect, she stops complaining and sits down.

"We don't have a mentor," I point out, because Missy never addressed the whole issue.

"Well, unfortunately, it does seem that that is the case," she says, not looking up at me.

Olive pipes up. "I mean, Lucya's a great teacher, though! I bet we can manage on our own..."

I don't take my eyes off Missy. "That's nice, Olive, but there's a few things I can't do. What about the Sponsors? What about the interview practice? What about the strategic aspects of the Games? There's no mentor, and there hasn't been one in District Nine for the past four years. What happened those other years?"

Missy finally looks up. "Well, I tried to teach the Tributes everything I could, like everything about the Cornucopia and all the important stuff in there."

Suddenly I'm filled with rage at Missy for leading those Tributes to their deaths. My voice is shaking as I ask her, "Did any of those Tributes actually _make it through _the Cornucopia battle?"

Missy pales as she realizes what she's done. "I'm... I'm... I never thought of it... No, none of them... Is... Is the Cornucopia a trap or something, with all the weapons?"

"You _idiot!_" By now I'm simply seething. "Of course it's a trap; why do you think so many Tributes die on the first day? And you've been telling kids that it's _safer _to fight at the Cornucopia?"

Missy looks as if she's about to cry. I try to calm myself down. "Okay. Let's forget about that for now. What will we do about the Sponsors?"

"The rules state that an escort can fill in for that job if no mentors are available," she says. "And that's what I was supposed to do... but... none of the Nine tributes got past the first day ever since your father died... But, I promise that this year, I'll do all I can to make sure the two of you get Sponsors."

I nod slowly, because I know that Missy has been trying her best and that I'm being way too harsh. Olive leaps up from his chair. "Look, we're here!" The three of us walk over to the window, where the Capitol extends before us. It would be pitch black outside, but the bright white lights coming from streetlights and camera flashes make it seem like the middle of the day. There are hundreds of Capitol citizens waiting for us at the train station. Olive seems to be enjoying all the attention he gets when we step off the train, but I cover my face from the camera flashes. I respond rudely to interviewers asking for a couple of words. I even throw a little girl's autograph book to the ground. She picks it up and runs off crying, her purple hair flowing in the wind. I wonder how happy she'll be if I die on the Hunger Games broadcast. But I won't give her that pleasure.


	19. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER 19** RAVEN

The ride to the Training Center is short but eventful. The car is often stopped so that Capitol citizens could get short interviews or pictures with the two of us. I am relieved when the driver finally pulls up in the driveway of a tall, modern-looking building. Red thanks the driver in her monotone, unhappy way and leads us into the Training Center. We enter a shiny steel elevator and are taken up to the third floor. The doors open.

Monnie gasps. "Wow."

I have to agree with her. The suite is huge; every District gets its own floor, anyway. The area is large and open, with a large dining table in one corner and a glamorous TV room in the other. Everything is so sleek and modern, and such an improvement from my own home, with its three rooms and dirty walls.

"Well, it would be a lot more marvelous if you didn't have to fight to the death in a couple of days," Kai says as she steps out of the elevator. "And, if you don't mind, I'll be off to the restroom. Capitol food gives me the trots."

Monnie and I sit down on a couple of huge purple armchairs by a synthetic fire. Red kneels down next to the fireplace and stares into the fake flames. The flickering tongues of fire give her face an eerie glow, and her black eyes seem to glow.

"Um, Red?" I ask. It takes her a couple of seconds before she looks at me, further convincing me that she didn't give me her real name. "What are we going to be doing for the next couple of days, you know, before..." My throat gets dry. "Before the Hunger Games?"

Red shrugs. "Tomorrow, parade. Next day, interviews. Three days of training. Then the Games." I notice how she gets stony-faced when she mentions the Hunger Games. It's weird, but, at the moment, I'm thinking about Red and her history a lot more than I've been thinking about actually going into the arena. Maybe it's a good thing; it's kept me calm, in a way. She stands up. "Your rooms," she says, pointing to two sets of luxurious double doors. She walks away, disappearing into a different room.

Just as she leaves, a man in a red uniform walks up to me and Monnie. I can tell that he is an Avox, a convicted criminal forced to wait on wealthy Capitol citizens, or, in this case, Tributes, mentors, and escorts. He gestures toward the dining table, which is laden with food. I remember that all Avoxes, as a punishment, get their tongues cut out. I shiver at the thought of this poor, mute slave.

Monnie nods. "Raven, aren't you hungry?" She seems a bit shaken by the Avox as well. I say yes, and we follow the man to the dining table. We sit down and start eating. I want to talk to Monnie, because I'm starting to realize just how close to the Games we are, but I also feel like talking is something of a crime when the Avox is around. I know it's ridiculous, but I feel it would be something of rubbing it in his face. But, after ten minutes of eating silently, I can't take it anymore.

"So, Monnie, what are you going to do for your interviews?"

She frowns. "I don't know, I haven't really thought about it yet. I've kind of been focusing more on the 'trying not to die' part of the Hunger Games. I guess I'll just wait to hear what Kai has to say. She did win the Games almost purely out of popularity, anyway." When she says it, I realize that I have no idea what kind of special personality I'll show during my interview. Even though Kai has told us her story, it hasn't sunk in that popularity is a huge factor in the Hunger Games. I wonder what the other Tributes will do. The Careers will be tough and merciless. Some other Tributes, like the girls from Seven or Twelve, can play the "cute and innocent" card. The girl from District Nine already has a strong personality to show; in her case, an interview is slightly unnecessary. We've all already seen just how unhinged she is.

Monnie stands up from the table. "We should probably go to sleep. I don't want the prep team complaining about the circles under my eyes," she says, and I laugh.

"Good night."

"Good night, Raven," she says, and goes into one of the bedrooms. I go off to the other one, change, and climb into the ridiculously large bed. It's even more comfortable than the one on the train, but I can't sleep. The Hunger Games begin in five days. I'm going to be dead in five days.


	20. Chapter 20

**CHAPTER 20** NATO

I lie in the white, reclining chair and look up at the sterile white lamp of the Make-Over Center. My prep team fusses over what to do with me and make me look presentable for the cameras. I think I look decent. At least for District Four standards. This is an entirely new world. I take a look at my prep team.

They're all women and extremely up-to-date with the Capitol fashions. Their hairstyles get more and more absurd from one to the other, their foot-long eyelashes stick out at wild angles, and their candy-colored dresses take up half the room. If they plan on dressing me up in any way similar to their own styles, the arena will be a relief. Luckily, they don't seem to do much, forever complaining that they wish they could do the female Tribute instead of the boring, male one.

One of the women leans over me and stares into my face. The amount of make-up on her face makes her completely hideous and kind of scary. She mutters something under her nose. One of the other women pipes in her fake, high accent, "What was that?"

The woman staring at me snaps back in an equally high voice, "I was just saying that we need to do something about his eyebrows."

I frown. "What's wrong with my eyebrows?"

The woman pulls at the skin around my eyes. "Oh, nothing, dear, they're just really bushy. Maybe we can pluck them, make them more... streamlined."

The idea is ludicrous. I want to protest, but they just push me into the chair and get to work. It takes much longer than it should, but I manage to finish the session with my eyebrows intact, for the most part. All they did was cut a couple of centimeters off my bronze hair and shave the short stubble on my face. I'm also pretty sure they applied something to my face so that I won't grow facial hair during the Games. I'm taken away from the prep team to meet my stylist. After all, the parade begins in around two hours. It's the first time the public will see all the Tributes together. I have to make a good impression, which I can't do without my stylist's help. The interviews aren't until tomorrow, so, now, I'm heavily relying on the stylist to make me eye-catching in a good way.

I try to remember the District Four costumes from past years. Some of them were quite decent, made up of nets and other fishing equipment. I remember a terrible year when the Tributes were dressed in horrible salmon costumes. I can only hope that this stylist will have a sense of logic.

The prep team leaves me at the door to another room in the Make-Over Center. I walk in and find that Indigo is already there. She doesn't look too happy about the work her own prep team got done. We're wearing the same stark-white, knee-length hospital gowns, and I can tell from the red marks on her legs that she's been through some waxing. I can't believe how lucky I am not to have gone through the same treatment. I notice that there's another man in the room.

He's completely bald, but looks to be only in his late thirties. From the neck up, he looks completely normal, except for the slightly crazy look in his eyes. His outfit is somewhat overwhelming, though. He's wearing a bunch of multicolored robes that only emphasize the craziness I see in his eyes.

"Oh, good!" he exclaims when he catches sight of me. I'm surprised to hear that his voice is almost normal. "I'm Darren, by the way. I was waiting for you to get here before I got started with the costumes. Okay, now sit down next to Indigo, and we have to start getting the scales on you..." he trails off, looking into a box of different fabrics.

_We're going to be fish_, I think. _Damn it._


	21. Chapter 21

**CHAPTER 21** RAVEN

I look around. All the Tributes are already standing in their chariots, with their stylists making quick, last-minute adjustments to their costumes. I can hear the roaring crowd that's just outside the huge doorway and I recognize that there is some woman speaking over a loudspeaker. She's probably getting the audience riled up for the parade.

Monnie is standing right next to me, and I'm glad that I don't have to go through the chariot ride on my own. She looks just as nervous as I feel, which is both comforting and scary, given the nerves of steel she showed off at the Reaping back home. I want to talk to her, but I can't think of anything to say so I just stare ahead. Our stylist darts in between our limbs, making sure our costumes are on correctly.

Monnie and I are both wearing uncomfortable, silver jumpsuits. They're fashioned entirely out of wires, some thicker and some thinner and more fragile. It must be because we're from District Three. The stylist had warned us in her fake accent not to move at all in the costumes, because they're so extremely breakable. I wonder how I'll manage to not fall out of the chariot if I can't move my arm to grip the sides.

A man with a large clipboard and a small megaphone enters the Chariot Room. The sudden hush from the street outside tells me that the parade is about to begin. The man speaks into the megaphone, confirming my suspicions. The stylist from District One leaves the first chariot. The two Tributes are wearing nothing but a bunch of rubies and diamonds stuck directly to their skin. The male Tribute is pretty well-covered-up, but the girl is practically naked. The stylist must think it's going to get her some popularity. Apparently, it does, because when their chariot rolls out of the room, the crowd erupts into cheers.

The next chariot to go is District Two. I take a deep breath, because Monnie and I are next. "Don't worry," she says from my right. "All we have to do is smile and try not to fall out. This is no big deal. Not compared to what we're here for in the first place." She's right, but I'm still nervous. I nod, but stop myself when I remember our stylist's words. The man with the clipboard walks up to our chariot.

"Three, you're up." He pats the grey horses in front of our chariot, and they trot off, pulling us along with them. The doors open and we're carried out into the street.

The avenue is huge; there are thousands of spectators watching us from the stands, and probably thousands more on television. People point fingers, roar, and cheer as we roll out of the building. I don't know what to do. I can't move because of my costume. All four of the Tributes in front of us are waving and smiling at the audience. I can't even turn to see them clearly. I can tell that the crowd isn't too pleased with our performance. I notice that most of the heads in my vision are facing towards the doors, hoping the next chariot will be more exciting. I know that Monnie and I will have no sponsors, and an even smaller chance at winning the Games.


	22. Chapter 22

**CHAPTER 22** NATO

To my relief, Darren's costumes turned out to be something entirely different than the fish I was expecting. By scales he had meant the four-sided, small plates of polished metal that he later attached to our clothes. I'm wearing a jacket of the plates and black pants, while Indigo is wearing a dress made out of the shiny, faux "scales." We both look like fish, but not in a ridiculous, much-too-literal way. Darren just does some adjustments to Indigo's hair as we stand in the chariot. I'm glad he just happened to be our stylist. Despite his own crazy robes and eyes, he managed to get the both of us looking decent and noticeable. It's something that a lot of the Hunger Games stylists don't seem be able to do. For example, the one who designed the District One outfits. I know that the girl will get a lot of popularity from the crowd (especially the male demographic), but it just seems like her stylist had no better idea than to throw her out into the street half-naked. Once again I'm thankful for Darren not having a similar idea for me.

Darren stands back to admire his work. "You two look great," he comments.

"We couldn't have done it without you," I say, smiling. "Thank you." Suddenly, I remember something. I take the necklace Delta gave to me in District Four out of my pocket and string it around my neck. The wooden fish pendant rests against my chest and reassures me; reminds me of home.

I watch as the chariot from District Three rolls out into the street. I can hear that the cheers get slightly quieter than they were for the first two Districts. I wonder if the crowd doesn't like them. The supervisor with the clipboard walks up to our chariot and I know it's time to go. I'm not nervous, because I know that our costumes are fantastic.

"Just one more thing," Darren exclaims, as if just remembering something. He takes a small screen out of his robes, similar to the remote I used on the train. Indigo starts to ask what it is, but the supervisor pats the horses and we are pulled out into the street. Just as I take my first look around me, I hear some kind of noise coming from my jacket. I look down to see that real water is slowly trickling down the make-shift scales of my costume. I look at Indigo, whose dress is now completely covered in a gentle coat of running water. I notice how it starts at the top of her dress but doesn't fall to the floor of the chariot. I don't have time to admire Darren's work; I have to wave and smile at the ecstatic audience. I can tell that Indigo and I are the center of attention.

I realize that looking great during the parade only further ruins my chances of survival. With such an impressive debut, District Four will definitely have willing Sponsors. The only problem is that the mentors will focus all their efforts on Indigo, only making her more dangerous during the Games. And, from our brief conversations, I know she'll stop at nothing to kill me.


	23. Chapter 23

**CHAPTER 23** LUCYA

Olive and I wait as the first eight chariots roll out into the street for the parade. I could care less about what the Capitol citizens think about me, but Olive looks terrified. I don't even try to comfort him, because, knowing me, I won't make him feel any better. The only thing I'm good for to him is to give him tips on how to survive in the arena. Instead of consoling him with fake words, I watch the other Tributes exit the building in their chariots. So far, the costumes from District One and District Four have been getting the most attention. I can understand why the crowd loved the Tributes from Four, especially with the water and all. And then there's the slut from One. The chariot from Seven is pulled into the street, and I prepare to make my first official appearance as District Nine's female Tribute.

I look down at the dress I'm wearing. The stylist has done a fantastic job. It's composed entirely of fabric that looks like stalks of wheat. They seem to grow as if directly from the skin of my upper chest, and then they wrap around me and end at my feet. I wonder how my dark hair contrasts to the golden color of the dress. The guy with the megaphone walks up to our chariot.

"Nine. Are you ready?" he looks up at the two of us. Olive nods shakily, but I just shrug. "Okay then," he says, prompting the brown horses to trot out into the street. The crowd directs all its attention on the two of us. For a second, Olive looks scared and nervous, but then he starts soaking up every bit of adoration the spectators are giving. It's ridiculous. I just want to grab his shoulders and shake him, tell him that these are the people that can't wait to see us die or kill one another. So, instead of waving at the audience or even smiling, I stare straight ahead. About halfway down the road, I even cross my arms to show I'm not going to take part in this shallow, double-sided parade.

Te chariot reaches a small square and comes to a halt. The first eight chariots are already lined up neatly, facing a large balcony with a podium set in the center. Behind us, the remaining three chariots are pulled down the street, and, eventually, stop to complete the line. I can't help but laugh at the Tributes from Twelve, who are dressed as huge lumps of coal.

As the cheering dies down, a figure approaches the pedestal on the balcony. It's President Snow, and, upon reaching the microphone, he begins to speak in his dry voice. He gives a short summary of the Treaty of Treason and congratulates us all on being chosen to fight in the Hunger Games. When he's finished, he clears his throat and starts talking once more. "The time has come to reveal the complete rules that will be set into action during this year's Quarter Quell. The Capitol is standing by its decision to allow for multiple Tributes to leave the arena alive, but, other than the new rules of all future Hunger Games, there is a special exception to the 'multiple victors' idea. Only in the case of a single victor will that child's District be rewarded with food and money for a year. In all other cases, only the victors will receive these benefits, and their individual Districts will be, sadly, neglected." Snow seems to be relishing the moment.

"The second regulation is the Fifty-Year Guarantee. A single victor will be guaranteed fifty years of comfortable living in the Victor's Village of their District, food, riches beyond imagining, and safety from the Reapings. These fifty years of security will be evenly divided between the victors shall more than one win. Once those years of a victor are over, he or she is once more made eligible for the Reapings and will lose all the amenities of living in Victor's Village." The meaning of his words sinks in. If I don't win solely on my own, I'll be eligible for the Hunger Games in only a decade or two. And then the Capitol will rig the Reaping and have me go back into the Games. There's no escape. You have to win the Games on your own, or you'll be back in them in several years. It's no different than the other years. Everyone will want to snatch the whole 50 years. I know I will. Snow has left us no choice. I look up to see him smiling devilishly. "Happy Hunger Games. And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor."


	24. Chapter 24

**CHAPTER 24** RAVEN

"Oh, look at the time," says Kai, looking at the steel clock at the end of the dining room. "We should get going; the interviews are set to start in an hour or so, and you two still have to get dressed!" Kai has spent the day coaching me and Monnie about what to do during the interviews and how not to get too nervous in front of such a huge audience. Her advice was not to think about what personality trait we're going to play off of until we actually get up on the stage. That way it'll be more intuitive, natural, and believable. After all, thinking fast is something I'll have to learn before I head into the arena.

Red comes up to the table. She had been sitting silently in her room for basically all of our time in the Capitol. Her red hair is, as usual, tied back in a tight, long ponytail. Even her clothes haven't changed since I first met her: the grey pants, black top, and sleek red pumps. Again I wonder who she is. "I'll take them to the stylist," she tells Kai. The Avox that serves our floor approaches the table and wipes it clean with a cloth. For a second, he makes eye contact with Red, but quickly looks away. I try to see her reaction, but she's already at the door.

Monnie stands up. "Yeah, Raven. We should go; I don't think the Capitol will like it if we're late." I push in my chair, trying to find any emotion in the Avox's face, but he keeps looking downward.

"Good luck, you two," says Kai with a confident smile. "Although, really, you won't need it. You're both extremely likable, and, as soon as people see that, they'll be tripping over one another to sponsor you in the arena."

"Thank you, Kai," says Monnie courteously and follows Red into the elevator. I stumble after them, not really thinking about the interview, because the exchange between Red and the Avox has caught me off guard. A whole new batch of possible explanations have opened up, but so have so many new questions. Was Red friends with the Avox before his punishment? Did she have anything to do with his crime? Is being an escort an alternative punishment for her? As the elevator heads down to the ground floor, I look up at Red. I see her in a different light now, but, then again, she never struck me as normal. She isn't anything like your average Capitol citizen, and yet she's not even close to being like anyone from the Districts. I would love to brainstorm all the possibilities some more, but the time goes by extremely quickly, and, before I know it, I'm wearing a dark cobalt suit and waiting for the interviews to begin.

All the Tributes are lined up, starting with the girl from District One and ending with the boy from District Twelve. I hear the chatter of the audience hush down in anticipation. Some music plays in the background. Then a deep voice announces, "Please welcome your host, carrying on the legacy of the late Caesar Flickerman, Tetra Flickerman!" The crowd bursts into cheers. I'm confused. Caesar Flickerman has been the host of a bunch of different Capitol broadcasts for years. Even in his older years, he kept his famous blue locks and winning smile. He must have passed away just this year, because I don't remember ever having heard of this Tetra woman before.

The woman introduces herself and gives a short introduction. She has the classic Capitol accent, but she doesn't seem fake at all. She calls out Ruby, the girl from District One. She acts seductive, but in a ruthless kind of way. Next is Velvet, the boy from One. I see him to be kind of spoiled. But he'll probably be dangerous in the arena; he is a Career, after all. Cree, the huge dark-skinned girl from District Two, doesn't waste time in showing how strong and bloodthirsty she is. The boy from District Two, however, scares me the most out of the Careers. His name is Pyro, and, from beneath his cropped black hair and thick eyebrows, his reddish eyes dart about with a clever, malicious glint.

Monnie takes a deep breath as Tetra Flickerman announces her name. "Good luck," I whisper as she heads out onto the stage. At Tetra's first question, I notice Monnie going back to being the cool, steely version of herself. I realize that must be what she's like when she's under pressure. Her interview is over quickly and I know I'm next.

"Next up, from District Three, Raven Walz!" I hear Tetra's voice and know it's my cue to come out onto the stage. I slowly walk out and squint my eyes. It's so bright out here, with all the cameras and spot lights. Tetra gives me a comforting nod and gestures to an empty seat next to hers. She's slim but rather short, with purple hair cut evenly above her shoulders and huge, black glasses. I sit down in the large white armchair and wait for the applause to die down.

Tetra reaches out her hand and I shake it. "So, tell me Raven, what are your strategies for the arena?"

I want to say something clever or witty that makes me seem prepared and intelligent, but I only manage to choke out, "I don't know."

Tetra swoops in to save me. "Well, there must be something you're good at! Go on, don't be shy. What can you do, Raven?"

I think about everything I can do with wires and technology. I also want to tell her about my moderately decent aim, but all that slips out is, "No. Nothing."

Tetra laughs, but not in a cold way. "Oh, Raven, stop being so modest!" I can't believe how great she's being. She's turning my stupidity into humbleness. I want to do something to prove her right, but I just shrug. _What are you doing, Raven? _I tell myself. _You're completely screwing everything up!_

"Well, I'm sure you'll figure out something tomorrow during training," Tetra says. "So, Raven, you know that this is a special year. What do you think about the new rule about multiple victors?"

I tell myself that this is the moment to make the Capitol remember and respect me. It's now or never. "Well, I think that it's extremely kind of the Capitol to forgive us this way," I lie. The Capitol citizens are probably swooning over me, but I can only imagine the hate I'm receiving in the Districts. "The mercy and kindness the Capitol has shown the Districts is amazing, giving what we've done," I say, but I realize I have to be careful because I'm walking on thin ice. "There are no words to describe how grateful I am," I finish. Tetra thanks me for the interview and sends me backstage, where all the other Tributes are glowering at me. _At least I'll have Sponsors, _I think. _But no allies._


	25. Chapter 25

**CHAPTER 25** NATO

I smile at Raven, the little boy from District Three. I don't believe that he actually meant those things that he said during the interview. He had to save himself from the horrible first half of it by gloating about how great the Capitol is. I hope the others understand this; if not, it can prove to backfire on him in the arena. He catches my smile and feebly smiles back. A tall woman with a red ponytail takes his arm and walks him away from the rest of us. I wonder if I should form an alliance with him once we're in the arena. I need to get to know as many people as possible during Training tomorrow. Then, of course, there's the added rule that was announced yesterday at the parade. If so many of us win, we'll only have a couple years of security from the Games, and it's obvious that the next Reapings will be rigged.

I hear Tetra Flickerman announce, "And now, from District Four, Indigo Keene!" Indigo smoothes down her green mini dress and walks out onto the stage to a tremendous amount of applause. As usual, she's cold and kind of cruel, but the Capitol people know that means a good show, and, of course, they love it. Her three minutes go by quickly and I'm up next.

"I introduce to you Nato Inderell from District Four!" Tetra announces. The crowd bursts into applause, and I walk out from behind the stage. The purple-haired presenter motions for me to sit down on the large white chair next to her. I sit down and take a look at the audience. It's a bit overwhelming; all these different colors and extravagant fashions.

Tetra starts off the interview. "Nato, we all know that District Four is generally a volunteer-generating District. What was running through your head when you were Reaped and nobody volunteered?"

"I wasn't really thinking about it," I say, truthfully. "In any case, I wouldn't want any other kid to have to go into the arena instead of me. I was just hoping not to collapse from the pressure," I add. A fair amount of laughter comes from the audience. _What? I'm not trying to be funny, _I think.

"Since we're on the topic of volunteers, Indigo, the girl from your District, was one. What kind of a relationship do the two of you have?"

I raise an eyebrow. "It's definitely an interesting one," I comment, smiling. "She might just cause me some trouble in the arena."

Tetra gives a short, kind chuckle. "And, about the arena. Do you have any special, secret ideas or skills that you'll put to use once the Hunger Games begin?"

I laugh. "Well, Tetra, they wouldn't be special or secret if I told you right now, would they?" Good. Now the Capitol sees me as a guy with a sense of humor, a great, secret technique, and some amount of intelligence. The interview is going better than I expected.

"Ah, Nato, that's a clever answer," says Tetra.

"Well, it was a clever question," I retaliate with a smile. I'm glad to hear that the audience is laughing. For a second I feel like there's a slight chance that I'll get Sponsors even though my mentors hate me.

Tetra waits for the applause to die down before asking one more question. "Your wooden fish pendent has become something of your symbol here in the Capitol. Would you mind telling us all its story?"

"There's not really much to tell," I admit. "Delta, a girl from my District, gave it to me before I came to the Capitol." As I say it, I regret it because I can sense what Tetra will respond with.

"Delta... is she in any way... a _special _girl in your life?" Tetra asks as I feel myself go completely red.

"No," I say, only then realizing I sound defensive. "We just... we used to go to school together, we hardly ever talked. I don't think we remembered one another until the Reaping."

Tetra grins slyly. "Well, she must have remembered you if she gave you the pendent." I realize she must be right. I don't know what to say, and luckily my three minutes run out. I leave the stage quickly after saying good-bye to Tetra. It shouldn't bother me, but something about her last comment got me thinking. _What if..._


	26. Chapter 26

**CHAPTER 26** LUCYA

I wait impatiently for my interview to start. Everyone from Districts One through Six have already had their interviews, and now, the girl from Seven is out there talking to Tetra. I think about the better interviews. Ruby was slutty as usual and I am starting to fear Pyro, the boy from District Two. Not only is he tall and muscular, but I know he has enough wits to outsmart every single one of the Tributes. Except the boy from District Four. His interview was interesting, too; I never knew someone's face could get that red. Of course, the interviews with the pregnant couple from District Six were emotional and tearful. I listen in to the interview with Maple, the female Tribute from Seven, the lumber district. Her voice is jittery and nervous. I remember her as the girl who had to be carried to the stage by Peacekeepers at the Reaping. Out of everyone in the Games, she seems to be the least prepared.

She leaves the stage to a small amount of applause and the boy from her district steps out to take his interview. Next are both the Tributes from District Eight. I wait for Tetra's voice to introduce me. I wonder how she'll do it; I obviously haven't done much to gain the favor of the audience.

"Introducing Lucya Tennish from District Nine!" Tetra shouts from the stage. I hitch up my dress and walk out into the spotlight. There's something of a hush in the audience, and I hear some murmuring. There's several reasons that come to my mind. I wonder which will prove true, if not all of them. I take a seat on the huge white chair next to Tetra and look at her with anticipation.

"So, Lucya, why don't we start from the beginning?" she says. I know what she's going to ask about. "I know this is probably a delicate subject," she begins, reaching out to hold my hand. I defiantly fold my own hands in my lap and leave her hanging there. She clears her throat and continues. "A lot of our watchers want to know if the victor of the 71st Hunger Games was indeed your father."

I shrug. "Yeah. He was."

"Now, how do you feel, being in the position that he himself was 29 years ago?" she asks. "Because of your father, do you feel like you were destined to come to the arena?"

"I don't know," I retort rudely. "Do _you _feel like you were destined to interview kids about to die because of _your _father?" I know her intentions are pure, but I don't care.

Tetra bites her lip. "Next question." Her voice is no longer friendly and cooperative. It's sharp and unforgiving. I wonder if she'll find a way to torture me with her questions. "Okay, _Lucya_, we all remember your _frenzy _at the District Nine Reapings. Actually, maybe we can get the technical producers to play it?" I feel anger boil up in me as, after a moment, a bunch of television screens around the huge theater. I watch as the Peacekeepers drag me through the Square. I'm screaming, but the noise is muted. I have to admit that they couldn't have chosen worse angles to show. I look maniacal and unhinged, a lot different than just the anger I saw on the Reaping tape. I'm almost certain the Capitol has tampered with it to make me look crazy. At least crazier than I originally came off. The video ends and I look at Tetra. The corners of her mouth are curled up in obvious delight.

"So, what _exactly _was going on there?" she says.

"Not much," I say through gritted teeth. "I had just gotten some bad news, and felt like inflicting some pain. You know, kind of like I feel now." I'm aware that the tension in the room has reached a dangerously high level, and I don't even care that I'm on live TV in front of a numerous audience.

Tetra scowls. "You've been behaving rather _interestingly _during your time here; upon your arrival, at the parade, and now. Are you planning on disrespecting the Capitol in any other way?"

I shrug, getting up from my seat. I know very well my three minutes aren't near to being finished. "I've been thinking about it," I say. "It's been a real pleasure talking to you." I turn on my heel and leave the stage. I look at the few Tributes who are still waiting for their own interviews. They look shocked but also intimidated. Olive, however, looks horrified for me. Tetra calls him out onto the stage. Her voice is kind again; she's obviously regained her composure. I'm nowhere near that feat, though. I storm into the hallway and nearly run straight into Missy. She starts a fit immediately.

"Lucya, I _cannot _believe what you did out there!" she scolds. "_Manners!_"

"These people want to watch me die, Missy," I hiss. "I don't give a damn about _manners_." I slam my fist into the wooden paneling that runs along the wall of the hallway.

For a second Missy's eyes lighten up. "That is ma—"

"Oh, save it," I mutter, storming past her. As I find an empty corner to sit down in, I realize something. I haven't screwed up my chances of getting Sponsors as much as I had originally thought. There's a slight possibility I might have just gotten Capitol citizens to like me by being cold and harsh. In a way, I've already become murderous.


	27. Chapter 27

**CHAPTER 27** NATO

Gannie bursts into my room, crying out about how Indigo and I should get ready for training. I sleepily open my eyes and roll over in bed to look out the window. The city outside is still bathed in darkness, and only a couple of streetlamps and solitary cars light up the night. I look at the green numbers that shine from the wall by my bed. It's only 3:09 in the morning.

"Get up, Nato, it's time to get going!" she says, adjusting her sea green wig.

"Gannie," I yawn. "Training doesn't start 'till seven."

Gannie looks at the green numbers on my wall. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm just _so _excited!" she says, even though her voice holds no trace of an apology. "The Hunger Games are beginning in just a couple of days, and you two need to learn how to properly kill so that we have an entertaining year!" she exclaims, once again patting my cheek with her pudgy hand. I push it away and burrow my face in my pillow. I fall right back to sleep and, the next time she bounds into my room, it's 6:30. I get up slowly and stumble into the shower. I just stand there for around ten minutes before getting out and brushing my teeth. I leave my room and Gannie propels me toward the breakfast table using the entire of her body weight. "Eat up, we only have ten minutes before we have to go," she says, stuffing herself with about half of the things on the table.

I take my seat. Both the mentors are here, but Indigo is missing. I wonder what's taking her so long as I eat a bagel with cream cheese. About five minutes into my meal, Indigo struts out of her bedroom and sits at the table. She's wearing way too much makeup. It's laughable, really, that she's prepared her looks so much just for training. We all quickly finish our food and Gannie directs me and Indigo into the elevator. We go down four stories to the base floor, where I know the Training Hall is. Most of the Tributes are already there. A tall woman gives a quick explanation of how the next three days are going to work, and then the twenty-four of us all split up to go practice different things.

As Indigo wanders off to go hang out with the Careers, I decide, that, before I do anything, I should get to know what all the others are doing. The boy from District Five is swinging a machete at one of the stations. The Careers have split up. Velvet, the boy from District One, is staring at a wall of sharp knives. Ruby is sword fighting with one of the trainers, while Cree wrestles another to the ground. Pyro is throwing knives at targets with incredible accuracy. I walk over to where Indigo is standing with a bow in her hands. She notches an arrow and fires it at a dummy. It lodges itself in the wall right next to its head.

"Nice shot," I say with a smirk.

Indigo's face turns ashen. "I wasn't aiming for the dummy," she says bluntly. "I was aiming for the wall."

"Oh," I say, joining in on her quick lie. "Well, then, you might want to rethink your priorities. Shooting walls can be kind of unnecessary in the arena." I dart away as her she turns red. I pass the District Three Tributes, Raven and Monnie, who are trying to get a fire started. Marg from District Six is trying to show Dane how to handle a weapon, but she seems reluctant. I see the Kaulie, the twelve-year old girl from Twelve, crying to a trainer about how she can't do anything and that she'll die right away.

After wandering the Center for about a half an hour, I'm aware of almost everyone's strengths and weaknesses. I catch sight of the training area designated for spear fighters. There's only one person there; the girl from District Nine. I haven't observed her yet, and I also want to try out the spears. I walk up to her. She is holding a long, wooden spear with a golden tip. She holds it firmly in her hand and is about to throw it at a far-away target, but I interrupt her. "You're holding it wrong," I say. She turns around, her eyes screaming bloody murder.

"What do you mean?" she says stormily. I take her spear and move her hand backward.

"See, you were holding it way too close to the tip. It would've sailed straight into the ground." For a second she looks like she wants to say something mean, but then seems to realize that I might just be able to help her. "And," I add. "I don't think that would be the right spear for your physique." I browse the selection. "Here," I say, handing her a thicker, shorter, one with a silver tip. "Try it."

She takes aim again, this time holding on like I told her to. She thrusts her hand forward and the spear flies out of her hand. It sails into the outer ring of a target. I smile. "That was pretty good."

She stares at me as if I said something bad. "If you're so great, why don't _you _try it?" she says, shoving the spear into my arms. I switch it for a longer, thinner one, the one she was using earlier. I hold it in my hand and throw. It hits right outside the bulls-eye. She only frowns even more. "Okay then. Let's see how well you'll do on my turf, Four." She leads me over to the sword-fighting area, which Ruby has just left to get a drink. She throws me a sword and picks one out for herself. "Let's see how you dance, fish boy."

She strikes with the sword. I easily move aside and her weapon hits thin air. She retreats and lunges forward again. I deflect her blade with my own. We continue like this for around ten minutes, with her making quick, fast stabs while I easily deflect or dodge them. For a second she stops fighting to catch a breath.

"You're strong, but predictable," I tell her coolly while she wheezes. "And you use way too much energy."

Her eyes narrow and she strikes one last time. My sword clatters out of my hand. She smirks. "You're clever, but weak."

I crouch down on the ground quickly and pick up my sword. I'm standing again before she has time to react. "You're fierce, but kind of slow."

This time she's fully smiling. "I'm Lucya," she says.

"Nato."

"We're allies?" she asks.

"We're allies." I stretch out my hand and she shakes it. I look into her bright blue eyes, which have a mysterious light twinkling in them. She twists my hand and throws me to the ground. Her sword is poised at my throat.

"You're too gullible," she says, and we both burst out laughing.


	28. Chapter 28

**CHAPTER 28** RAVEN

The sun dawns on the second day of training. During breakfast, Kai tells us, once again, to try our hardest to visit every station to learn how to do everything the best we can. She also mentions that Monnie and I should find something that we're great at, something that will make us a force to be reckoned with during the Games. Neither of us really found that one thing during our time at the Training Center yesterday. We're both riding on the hope that wires and electrical appliances will be readily available in the arena.

Kai wishes us good luck and Red takes us down three floors to go to the Training Center. Many of the Tributes are already at the different stations, fighting, tying knots, learning how to survive. Monnie and I decide to go to the knife-throwing station first. It's empty, even though I remember Pyro practicing here the other day.

Monnie picks up a small throwing knife. "Here, take one," she says, pointing at the cruel selection of knives and spikes. I pick out a sharp one with a leather handle. It's surprisingly well-made for just practice. Monnie takes aim and throws her own. It spins uncontrollably on its way to the target and simply bounces off the wall next to it. She sighs. "I'm no good at anything," she says.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll find something you're good at," I comfort her, knowing I'll most likely do just as bad as she did. I have a decent aim, but I've never thrown anything like a knife before. Expecting the worst, I hurl my knife at the target. To my surprise, it stabs into it. Of course, it's miles away from the bulls-eye, but I'm still shocked.

Monnie pats my back. "Good job, Raven. Maybe you should stay here. It seems like this'll turn out to be your special skill. I'm going to go try out some other weapons. Maybe archery or sword-fighting..." she shrugs. "I don't know. Today we should just split up and try to figure out what we're the best at individually."

I nod. "Yeah, that sounds reasonable. I guess we'll see each other back in the suite."

"See you then," she smiles, walking away. I see her stand in the line for hand-to-hand combat. It doesn't seem like such a bad idea, especially since I'm not planning on heading toward the Cornucopia. Instead, I focus on perfecting my aim with the knives. I even try out throwing some spikes and throwing stars, but none of the weapons I throw hit the center of the target. After an hour, I'm aggravated and my right arm is exhausted.

I'm about to leave the station when I'm joined by another Tribute. It's Pyro, the guy from District Two. His long fingers hover over the weapon display and pick up three small, metallic throwing stars. He looks up at the target range, and, without the slightest hesitation, flicks his wrist. The three stars soar out across the station in perfect arcs. Each of them hits the center of a different target. I pale because an aim that good is frightening. I know that if I ever become his target in the arena, he won't miss. I quickly leave and wander the huge room. I stop at the sword practice area.

Two Tributes are practicing while a third, younger boy looks on. I recognize the fighting Tributes as Nato from District Four and Lucya from District Nine. They're both amazing, but in their own ways. She's a great fighter and can swing her sword like she was born to do it, but he is good at evading and blocking her attacks and using her own power against her. They'll both make interesting enemies. But even greater allies. I sit down next to the curly-haired kid watching their battle.

"Hi, I'm Raven," I say shyly. He tears his eyes away from the duel.

"Hi, my name is Olive. I'm from Lucya's District," he says, pointing at the black-haired girl. "They're great, aren't they?" he adds.

I nod. "Yeah. Are you guys in an alliance?"

"Yeah," says Olive. "Since Lucya's from my District, we've basically been on a team since the beginning. She introduced me to Nato yesterday. We basically decided to stick together in the arena."

I look down at my feet. "Do you think I could join you guys?"

Olive shrugs. "Sure, Raven, why not? We could always use more people, I guess."

I smile. "Thanks so much. And, you know, Monnie, the girl from my District, would probably want to join in too."

Olive laughs. "The more the merrier!" Out of the corner of my eye I notice that Lucya and Nato have stopped fighting. They walk over to us.

Lucya frowns. "Hey, Olive, who's the kid?"

I speak up. "I'm Raven, I'm from District Three. Olive said that my partner Monnie and I could join your alliance."

Lucya looks like she wants to protest, but Nato steps in for me. "I'm sure you'll make a valuable addition to our team." His voice is kind and comforting. "Don't worry about Lucya; she hated me when we first met."

Lucya shoves him in the chest. "I still do, fish boy," she laughs. For the next couple of hours the four of us train together. Nato proves to be excellent with a spear, and Olive can handle darts pretty well. Nato tries to teach me a bunch of stuff, but my best station is still the knife-throwing one. When Lucya, Olive, and Nato leave to get something to eat from the buffet, I come up to Monnie, who has returned to the hand-to-hand combat mat.

She's throwing kicks and punches at her trainer, who returns them just as easily. I watch as she kicks his ankle and then somehow skirts around him to jump onto his back. By positioning herself correctly, she brings him down to the ground. He stands up and congratulates her. She leaves the mat to stand by me.

I raise an eyebrow. "That was some pretty good fighting," I say, impressed.

She shrugs. "I grew up with four older brothers. Wrestling was a common thing in my house when I was a kid." She frowns. "Raven, who were those kids you were hanging out with?"

"Lucya, Raven, and Nato. They let me join their alliance, and they said they'd accept you too."

"Are you sure they're trustworthy?" she asks unsurely.

"Nato and Olive? Totally," I say. "Lucya, well, she doesn't give a very good first impression, but she's really a good person if you get to know her."

She still doesn't look too convinced. I begin to sense that something's wrong. "Monnie... what happened?" I ask.

She sighs. "One of my brothers had a girlfriend that went into the Hunger Games. She was killed by one of her allies when she was sleeping." She looks like she's about to cry. "I just don't want anything like that to happen again."

I grab her arm. "I'm so sorry. But I know that none of them will ever do anything that horrible. I promise you that we'll all make it through this."

She nods and sniffles a little before regaining her steely composure. But I know that my advice means nothing. These are the Hunger Games. Most of us won't even get close to making it through.


	29. Chapter 29

**CHAPTER 29** LUCYA

I rub the sleep from my eyes as Missy drones on about what a "big, big, big day" today is. It's the final day of training and the Tributes' last chance to learn something that will help their chances of survival in the arena. I almost feel like I don't need this one last day. I've practically mastered handling a sword over the past two days, and can disarm even Nato. I roll out of bed and quickly put on the clothes we're supposed to wear for training. Then I walk out into the dining room to eat breakfast. Olive and Missy are already there, so I decide to sit down next to Olive.

Missy speaks between meticulous bites of her pastry. "As you two should know, this is your last day of training. I'd suggest to try and learn as much as you can today; the arenas can be pretty unpredictable. And, remember to practice what you're the best at for tomorrow's session with the Gamemakers. You don't have much time with them, so you'll really have to blow them away." She wipes the sugar and powder from her blue lips and then looks at the ornate clock above the fireplace. "Oh, goodness, look at the time! We'd better get going!"

I glance at the clock. "Missy, training starts in an hour."

"Well, we have to be there on time!" she panics.

I sigh. "All we have to do is take an elevator down nine floors. We'll get there on time." I purposely take an extremely long time to finish my breakfast while Missy tries not to freak out about how we're not going to be fashionably early. By the time I suck the bits of food from my fingers, an hour has gone by. Missy has turned absolutely red and looks like she's about to throw a fit any moment now. When I stand up from the table she jumps out of her seat and propels me and Olive toward the elevator at a remarkable speed. When we arrive at the ground floor, all the Tributes are already at their favorite stations, practicing.

"Oh, good, we're fashionably late," I tease Missy.

She turns as purple as her hair. "There is _no such thing _as fashionably late," she hisses, walking away.

"Do you think we should go find the others?" Olive asks, craning his neck to try to find our allies.

I shrug. "I don't see why not."

Olive looks up at me with his small brown eyes. "Hey, Lucya, what are you going to do for the Gamemakers tomorrow?"

"Well, what do you think?" I ask sarcastically, leaning against a rack of swords. "It seems like a tough choice."

He laughs. "Yeah, you're an amazing swordfighter. But what should I do?"

I've been hoping this wouldn't come up. Out of the five of us, Olive has found nothing he's interested in. The other day he was pretty good with darts, but not good enough to do him any good in the arena. "Hey, maybe you don't need to be great with a weapon," I comfort him. "Maybe your skill can be gathering food or something with medicine. From the Games I've watched, those are pretty important things."

"That's a good point," he says, although he doesn't really seem to believe it. "I'll go over to the plant-identifying station. Do you want to go with me?"

"No, sorry, Olive. Stuff like that isn't really my forte. I think I should go practice the swords a bit more. You know, I have to do good for the Gamemakers tomorrow."

He nods and heads off to some other station. When I reach the sword area, I see that the girl from District One, Ruby, is already there. She's fighting with a trainer, and I have to admit that she's pretty good. She must've been training with swords since she was just a little kid. I don't feel like practicing with her, so I decide to try and find Monnie, Raven, and Nato. Just as I am expecting, Nato is at the spear section. Monnie and Raven are nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, Nato," I say as he picks up a spear.

"Hey." I can tell he's concentrating really hard. He throws his spear and it directly hits the bulls-eye. He looks just as shocked as I feel.

"Wow," I say. "I had no idea you were that good."

"I'm not," he frowns. "Lucky shot, I guess."

"Is that what you're going to show the Gamemakers?" I ask.

"I don't know. I'm best at it, but not exactly great. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah. And, you know, that spear is nothing close to what your biggest skill will be in the arena."

He furrows his brows. "What?"

"You're fast and clever. And you know that'll prove to be the most valuable thing in the Games."

He shrugs. "How about you? You're an excellent fighter, you don't back down, and you can work with medicine."

I laugh. "Okay, Nato, we're not going to play this game again." He smiles and gets back to practicing. For the next several hours we walk between the stations and find the rest of our little alliance. The end of the last day of training is drawing to a close.

Monnie looks at us. "This is the last time we'll see each other before the Hunger Games begin," she says simply. I realize it's true. Olive and I will still be seeing each other in our suite, but I won't see Monnie, Nato, or Raven until we're lifted up into the arena.

"I know," says Raven sadly.

"We should probably come up with a strategy right now," Nato suggests. "So we all know what to do once we're in the arena."

"Yeah," nods Olive. "We should all just find each other at the beginning."

"And not go to the Cornucopia," Nato adds. "It's too dangerous, and it's almost guaranteed that, if we do, we'll get finished off by the Careers. After we escape the Cornucopia we have to immediately find food, water, and shelter. Usually the Gamemakers make those moderately easy to find."

"What if there's nothing like that?" Olive says worriedly.

"There has to be," I say. "There always is. The Tributes would die off too easily if there wasn't."

The Head Trainer sounds a gong. Training is over. I take a quick look at Monnie, Nato, Raven, and Olive. I try to think only positive thoughts, but the bloodbath of the Hunger Games is inescapable. More likely than not, we won't get out of there in one piece, both physically and mentally.


	30. Chapter 30

**CHAPTER 30** RAVEN

Cree, the huge girl from District Two, is called out for her session with the Gamemakers. That means I'm next to go in and earn my training score. I'm more nervous than I was before the parade or even the interviews. I wonder what they'll think of me. I still have no idea what I'm going to show them. Maybe I can throw some knives. Either way, it won't be enough to get a halfway decent score.

You'll do great, Raven," Monnie says. "Don't worry."

Cree walks out of the Training Hall looking pleased with herself. An automated voice comes from a loudspeaker above our heads. "Raven Walz." I take a deep breath.

"Good luck," Monnie whispers to me. A couple of seats down, Nato gives me a reassuring nod. I leave the waiting room and enter the Training Hall. Mostly everything is the same as the three days of training, but, this time, the group of Gamemakers is sitting in a room overlooking the Hall. They're all staring at me intently, some with clipboards in their hands. I start walking toward the knife station, but something tells me that I'm making a bad decision. I remember Charge's words of advice right after I was Reaped.

_Show the Gamemakers your skills with wires_, he had said. _You're amazing. _I take a quick scan of my surroundings. I notice a box labeled "Technology." It's my only hope. I run toward it because I know I don't have much time. Immediately, I pick through the tangle of wires, gears, and tiny glass bulbs, looking for something that could be of help to me. I have an idea of what to do, but it might give the Gamemakers the wrong impression. I look up into their little skybox and notice that some of them are starting to look bored. I need to hurry up before I lose their interest completely.

After finding all the wires I need, I pile them in my hands and run to where I know a bunch of dummies are laying, available for the Tributes' use. I grab one made of a brown, rough material, and drag it out into the middle of the floor for the Gamemakers to see. Immediately, I start coiling the wires around its body. Beads of sweat form on my forehead as I try to create an intricate patchwork of flowing electrical current. I wrap the dummy's torso in the wires and then hold the two ends together in my palm. I quickly add several pieces I selected from the tool box. The creation is finished. I stand up to let the Gamemakers see it. In a way it's similar to what Monnie and I wore to the Tribute parade, but much more deadly. I hold the final, metal bolt in my hand and make sure all the Gamemakers are watching. Then I drop the bolt onto the dummy's encased body.

The small piece of metal hits the wires, emitting a bright blue spark, which travels around the wire works I created. Then the electricity dies down. The brown material of the dummy is smoking and parts of it are starting to burn. In human terms, it's dead.

A small amount of sprinklers activates over my head and hoses down the burning dummy. I look up at my audience, not knowing what to think. The Head Gamemaker nods at me to leave, but I can't tell what he thought of my trick. I leave the Hall without looking back. I've just found my deadly weapon. But, the question is, will I have no choice but to use it?


	31. Chapter 31

**CHAPTER 31** NATO

After Raven and Monnie both finish their private sessions with the Gamemakers, I know it's my turn. I've been practicing extremely hard over the past three days to perfect my aim while throwing the spear, but I can't help wondering whether it'll be enough. Then again, maybe I don't have to do so well. I can get a low score and then the Tributes wouldn't think I'm a threat. I realize that's not the right choice, though. I want to form a large alliance and save as many kids as I can, and they need to know my skills are sharp enough to keep them from being killed.

"Nato Inderell." I hear the cool, automated voice calling me into the Training Hall.

"Good luck," Indigo sneers. "You'll need it."

I shake my head. "Fraternizing with the enemy, Indigo?" I say disappointedly. "I don't think the other Careers are going to like that."

"No, that's not what I meant—" she protests.

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me," I smirk, darting into the Training Hall. I know I don't have much time so I quickly scan the room. As I expected, the Gamemakers are all sitting in the skybox above the Hall. Everything seems to be exactly like it was in practice, except for one thing...

"Why's it like that?" I ask loudly of the snooty Capitol citizens sitting up in the finely-furnished room. Nobody answers. One of the tiles of the floor is a different color than the other, dark grey ones. It's not much of a difference; the tile is only a lighter shade of grey, but it's near the spear station and I'm absolutely positive it wasn't there for the past three days.

After some silence I decide to look up at the Gamemakers. Something is wrong, I can tell. They're whispering between one another, and I notice that some of them are smiling crookedly. _What's going on? _Magnus Waspings, the Head Gamemaker, is the only one whose attention is still focused on me. He slowly tilts his head toward the door. "You may leave."

"Wait, what?" I ask, thoroughly confused. "You can't—I mean, I have to show you what I can do—"

"We've seen _quite enough_," says Waspings with an air of dismissal. The door leading off the Hall opens.

"What's going on?" I ask desperately. For the first time during my Hunger Games journey, I feel thoroughly frightened.

"Your time is up," Waspings repeats. "We have to send in the next Tribute." I know it'll do me no good to argue. I leave the Training Hall. _What just happened? Did I uncover something I shouldn't have? Why didn't they let me finish my session? _I know that the different-colored tile was there for some kind of reason because the Gamemakers obviously knew about it. Something is off about this game, and I don't want to find out what it is.


	32. Chapter 32

**CHAPTER 32** LUCYA

"Olive Pointe." Olive trembles as his name is read out by the loudspeaker. I feel like I should wish him good luck or something, but it seems too cliché and not genuine. So I just look down to the tiled floor as he nervously goes in to take his examination. After some time, my name is announced.

"Lucya Tennish." I get up from my seat in the waiting room, ready to show the Gamemakers everything I'm worth. I enter the Training Hall. Nothing's changed over since I was last in here yesterday. Except for the Gamemakers now sitting in the room above the Hall. Without hesitating at all, I cross over to the center of the room, where I've been practicing with swords for the past three days. I see that the training area is full of upright dummies, just waiting to be hacked at with swords. They're made out of some kind of plastic and look like they might be difficult to cut through. Instead of wondering, I grab a sword from the rack and get to work.

I begin by swinging the blade at the dummy nearest me. It clangs off it with a loud noise, but I manage to cut a slash in the plastic. I realize I'll have to hit much stronger, more precise blows, but also control them enough to cut through the material. Not good. Control and precision don't really seem to agree with me. I swing the sword again, trying to make a clean, strong swipe. It kind of works, cutting a slash in a dummy's neck. Time begins to pass and I start to master the necessary maneuvers. I severe a head and spin around to hack an arm off another dummy. After a while of furiously fighting, I begin to lose control. Without much of a plan or single thought in my head, I continue to chop and slash through the mass of plastic bodies. Limbs and body parts lay scattered on the floor by the time I'm done. I'm breathing hard and every single dummy is on the ground. I know that I could've been much better; the damage I dealt was fierce and effective, but not deadly and precise. For some reason I'm still filled with the rage I get when fighting. I look around the Training Hall and see a target on one of the walls, easily in my range.

I hurl the sword. It spins on its way to the target, but I don't stay to watch where it hits. I turn on my heel and strut out of the Training Hall.


	33. Chapter 33

**CHAPTER 33** NATO

I sit on the balcony of our suite, staring out across the darkening sky of the Capitol. There isn't much going on outside because mostly everyone seems to be in their homes, getting ready to watch the broadcast revealing the Tributes' scores. I can't believe that tomorrow I'll be in the arena fighting to survive. It seems so unreal. I close my eyes and let the cool summer breeze caress my face. This is my last chance to relax before the Games begin, and I might as well make the most of it. I'm on the verge of falling asleep when Gannie bounds out onto the balcony.

"There you are, Nato," she squeaks. "Come, the broadcast is starting. It's so exciting!" I follow her back inside and into the TV room. Indigo, Darren, and our two mentors are already sitting in front of the screen as a commercial for some kind of perfume plays. I decide to sit on the very end of the huge sofa, right next to Darren. The Capitol anthem begins to play as the seal appears on the screen.

"Happy Hunger Games!" says a man wearing a sleek, dark purple wig and violet eyeliner. "I'm Veto Nightlock, your host for this year's fantastic Quarter Quell. This is my lovely assistant, Tetra Flickerman." The camera zooms out to reveal Tetra, who's beaming from the seat next to Veto's.

"Thank you, Veto," she smiles. "Our dear Tributes have been practicing in the Capitol's well-equipped Training Hall for three days, and just yesterday they were put to the test in front of our esteemed Gamemakers, lead by Sir Magnus Waspings."

"For those of you who don't know how the pointing system works," Veto explains, "Our Tributes were ranked on a scale that ranges from one to twelve. One would be the lowest score, with twelve being the highest. These scores give you all an insight into the Tributes' level of skills before they enter the arena."

"Let's start with District One," Tetra announces as Velvet's thin face appears on a screen behind her. "Velvet scored an astounding nine from the Gamemakers."

The two presenters go on in this fashion. Both Velvet and Ruby from District One score nines. Cree from Two gets a ten, while her partner Pyro earns an amazingly high eleven. No wonder. His aim is beyond belief. The Tributes from District Three are next. I sit up to hear Raven and Monnie's scores.

"From District Three," Veto begins. "We have Raven Walz, who, even for his young age, earned a 7! Incredible, isn't it?"

"It sure is," laughs Tetra. "His partner, Monnie Knight, however, earned a score only one point higher—an eight. Even better!"

I grow tense as the District Four scores are revealed. Tetra introduces me. "Nato Inderell made quite an impression at the parade and later at his stellar interview with me. Veto, did his training score live up to those standards?"

I dread the worst. I didn't even do anything during my private session with the Gamemakers.

"Oh, I think it did, Tetra. Because Nato scored," he clears his throat while my heart pounds, "a perfect twelve."

"_What?_" Indigo cries out, jumping up from her seat. I sink into the cushions of the sofa, unable to move.

"No, there must be some mistake," Gannie mutters. "Look at him..."

"What did you do?" Indigo shrieks. "Bribe them?"

"No, I—I—I have no idea how... I don't get it," I stutter randomly. Indigo throws herself back down onto the sofa with her arms crossed.

"Wow, Veto, a perfect twelve," Tetra says, amazed. "Unfortunately, we are in a time slot so we have to get on to our next Tributes."

"That's right," laughs Veto. "Our next Tribute is also from District Four, a girl named Indigo Keene. She scored an eight during training." Indigo gives a short shout at the screen and kicks the coffee table, breaking off one of its legs. She storms out of the room looking upset.

"Oh, excellent," says Gannie. "Now she _really _wants to hurt you, Nato! That'll be so fun to watch tomorrow!"

I'm still recovering from the shock, so I don't pay too much attention to the next scores. Grit from Five gets a nine. Zaira, also from five, scores a six. Marg from District Six earns an eight while his unfortunate spouse gets only a one. Maple, the girl from Seven, scores four points. Her counterpart Timber, however, a nine. I zone out during the scores of the Tributes from Eight as I think about what Lucya and Olive will receive.

"Our adorable Olive Pointe from District Nine earned himself a solid six," reveals Veto Nightlock.

"And," Tetra scowls, "Lucya Tennish from the same District received a score of nine." Veto looks like he wants to talk more about Lucya, but Tetra cuts him off. "Now, District Ten."

I wish I could've talked to Raven, Monnie, Olive, and Lucya after their sessions. That way I would've known what they had done there. And not just the basics, because obviously Lucya used a sword, but more detailed things. I wish I could ask them about the different-colored tile and if they noticed it. I turn my attention back to the television, where Kaulie from District Twelve has just received a score of three.

Gannie stands up. "Off to bed, Nato. You have to be well-rested to be able to murder well tomorrow."

I wait in the Preparation Room, my arm still hurting from where the tracker had been injected. I remember waking up this morning, knowing that the Hunger Games are to begin today. I look over to where the tube leading up to the arena stands. I wonder where it'll take me. Hopefully the clothes will give some kind of clues. So I wait for Darren to come in and give me my arena uniform.

After some ten minutes, I hear a knock on my door and Darren comes in. His usually bright robes are black, as if he's mourning. His eyes still contain that strange, wild light, though.

"Hey, Darren," I say.

"Nato," he nods. "How are you?" he asks, rummaging through a bag he has brought in with him.

I shrug. "Not the best. You know, with the whole about-to-die thing."

He pulls something out from his bag. "These are the clothes you're supposed to wear. I know, they're horrible, those shoes don't go with anything."

I take a look at the uniform and run my hands along it. I pick up the elbow-length, pure white shirt. It's made of a kind of net-like material that looks like it could be good for hot weather. Maybe we'll be on a beach or a desert. Then I take a look at the white sweatpants that come with the shirt. Sweatpants definitely aren't suitable for warm climates. _Where is the arena? _The final part of the uniform is the sleek, comfortable, white running shoes.

I change into the shirt, pants, and shoes. Overall, it's a very comfortable outfit, but I'm stumped as to what the arena could possibly be. Sweatpants and a breezy T-shirt don't really go together. And why is everything white?

"30 seconds remaining," says an automated voice from somewhere in the room.

Darren frowns. "You should get going," he says sulkily. I nod and head toward the tube, but then he grabs my shoulder. "But not without this!" he exclaims in his usual, crazily loud voice. I turn around to see he's holding out my District token, the fish pendent given to me by Delta.

"Thank you," I say, stringing it around my neck.

"Twenty seconds remaining." I stand in front of the tube.

"Good luck, Nato," Darren says, grabbing my hand. It reminds me of Haggle's good-bye back home. When the voice announces that there are ten seconds left, I step into the plastic tube. It slides shut and I am separated from Darren and the rest of the world. The metal plate under my feet begins to slowly rise up. My heart is in my throat, trying to fight its way out.

For a couple of seconds I am in complete darkness before the metal plate rises above ground level. The light is blinding and my eyes need to slowly adapt to it. At first I have no idea where I am, but then I realize what the arena is. I'm going to have to change my plans.

Veto Nightlock's voice booms out across the arena. "Let the 100th annual Hunger Games begin!"


	34. Chapter 34

**CHAPTER 34** LUCYA

"_Sixty." _I hear Veto Nightlock's voice booming out over the arena.

The countdown has begun. I look around, not being able to make sense of where I am. The twenty-four of us are all positioned on our metal plates in an equal distance from the huge, golden Cornucopia. Inside, I can see weapons and supplies of all different sorts. I know better than to be tempted by the Cornucopia, so I look around the arena and try to figure out where we are.

"_Fifty."_

Around the Tributes runs a sleek, white wall. Breaks in the wall, kind of like empty doorways, occur every now and then. We're in a large, circular room with the Cornucopia in the center. Everything is a sterile white. I realize that, contrary to all the past Hunger Games, this arena is indoors. That leads me to wonder where the bright, white light is coming from. As I look around, I see that there are no lamps. The light seems to be emanating directly from the walls, floor, and ceiling.

"_Forty."_

Still stumped by the arena, I look around at the Tributes. The Tribute directly to my right is Pyro. Several people down to my left is Raven. Nato stands on the plate right next to him. I can't see Monnie or Olive; they must be on the other side of the Cornucopia. I'm worried for Olive; he might not be able to make it on his own. I hope he and Monnie find each other and protect one another.

"_Thirty."_

All of the Tributes are pretty still. We're not allowed to get off our platforms until the gong sounds, signaling the end of the countdown. If we do, we'll be blown to bits by the mines set right under our feet. However, I notice some movement to my far left. I notice that it's Nato. I stare, confused, as he takes off his baggy white shirt. He rubs the material between his fingers. I can't help but wonder if the stress of the Games has made him go mad. I want to see what he's doing, but I sense movement immediately to my right. I turn around to face Pyro.

"_Twenty."_

Pyro smile is crooked as his amber eyes glow with evil. His long fingers are wrapped around a small, metal ball that must be his District token. His eyes dart to the ground and buried mines beneath my feet. It doesn't take long for me to figure out what he's about to do. He seems to want to wait for me to realize that I'm about to die.

_"Sixteen. Fifteen. Fourteen."_

Still smiling, Pyro hurls his token at my feet. I act on impulse, randomly kicking out my leg. The metal ball collides with the side of my right foot and I scream out in pain. All the other Tributes must be watching us by now. Despite the throbbing in my ankle, I'm relieved to see that I managed to kick the ball back at Pyro. He catches it and I know he's about to throw it again.

_"Ten. Nine. Eight."_

But he doesn't. He turns around quickly and drops the ball at the feet of the Tribute to his other side. Her eyes widen momentarily before the mines activate and blow her to pieces. Her podium lights up in a circle of flames and smoke with a deafening roar. The explosion almost throws me off my own plate, but I regain my balance. The bombs are still bursting and I can't hear a thing. Pyro was smart enough to cover his ears. The noise from the explosion is still ringing in my ears. I notice something out of the corner of my left eye. Nato is sprinting toward the Cornucopia, a net made of white material flowing behind him. Where in the world did he get the net, and how did he get off his plate without the mines being set off?

Suddenly I realize how stupid I've been. I run off my own platform, towards Nato. The other Tributes seem to be catching on, because they all start running off their plates, too. The gong had gone off during the explosion and wasn't heard. Nato was the only Tribute with enough common sense to know when to get off the plate. And the net in his hands isn't a net—it's his shirt with its fibers stretched out to work as one. He made use of absolutely nothing.

Not surprisingly, Nato is the first Tribute to reach the Cornucopia. He unfolds the "net" around a group of weapons and supplies near the mouth of the Cornucopia and scoops a bunch of them off of the ground. I get to Nato as he starts running away from the bloodbath. Raven joins us just as the rest of the Tributes are getting close to the golden horn. Nato and Raven both grab an end of the net and I fish a sword out from the supplies, keeping their back as we run from the Cornucopia. The bloodbath has officially begun. I can hear the screams and clang of weapons already. We pass a boy with a knife driven into his knee squirming on the ground. At one point a metallic throwing star passes right in front of my face, opening a gash across my cheek.

Nato leads us through one of the doorways leading off of the Cornucopia room. We find ourselves in a hallway that branches off into two other hallways. "This way," Nato says, heading off into the right fork. With Nato in the lead, we run through the hallways this way for a good half hour, but I can still hear the fighting coming from the bloodbath. Sound travels extremely well in this arena.

Nato slows down at one point. Raven drops his end of the net to keel over, panting. I lean up against the sterile white wall as Nato fishes around in our acquired supplies, his bare back glistening with sweat.

"What is this place?" Raven asks, looking around.

Nato turns around from the supplies. "A maze. Don't you see it?" he says. "The Cornucopia's most likely directly in the center. I'm guessing the maze isn't too big because the Gamemakers don't want us getting too separated from each other."

I frown. "You're making me feel stupid."

He laughs. "What do you mean?"

"You're too intuitive," Raven mocks. "With the knowing what the arena is and the shirt-net thing and the getting off the platform at the right time..."

"And... that's a bad thing?"

I slam my hand into my face. "Well, at least we know you don't get one thing—sarcasm and a sense of humor."

Nato's eyes cross. "We're in the Hunger Games. I don't think this is the place for humor."

The atmosphere gets tense. Probably wanting to break the silence, Raven asks, "So, Nato, what'd we get from the Cornucopia?"

Nato is about to start explaining but I cut him off. "Hey. Speaking of the Cornucopia, why did you go toward it? I thought we agreed to avoid the bloodbath?"

"Look around you, Lucya," he says, exasperated. "I knew from the moment we got lifted up into the arena that we wouldn't find food or supplies in the maze. The Cornucopia was our only chance to get necessities." Once again, he's shown how intellectually superior he is to the rest of us.

"Fine. What did you get?"

Nato looks through into his stretched-out shirt. "We have the sword that you took out. There's a spear; I think I'll take that. The other weapons we have are two small hunting knives and a boomerang... Two small bottles of water..." he picks up two silver bags. "I think this is a food supply." He opens one of the bags. Inside, there are seven smaller, individually packed bags. "Yeah. I think each one of these little packets is a one-day food supply for one person. That's fourteen days in total, but there are three of us. That's only around four or five days each." The odds aren't too good. "We also have a small bottle of medicine, but I don't really think that'll do us much good." He picks up a large, white backpack. "It's empty," he says, storing the rest of our supplies into it. "And then there's this," he unfolds a white leather jacket.

I laugh. "You should probably put that on. I have a feeling your current shirt might prove to be a bit stretched out." Nato smiles and puts on the jacket, zipping it up near his neck. Then he indicates three small, white boxes.

"I just don't know what those are," he says, confused.

Raven picks them up. "They're called Product 058," he says. "We make them in the factories back home." He opens one of them, showing us the wires and gears inside. "Basic technology."

"Do you know how to work with stuff like that?" I ask.

Raven's cheeks redden. "Yeah, it's what I did for my session with the Gamemakers." He frowns. "Speaking of which, how did you get a twelve in training, Nato?"

"Yeah," I cross my arms. "How?"

"At first I had no idea what was going on. I just pointed out that one of the tiles on the floor was a different shade of grey than the rest. When I got into the arena and realized it's a maze, I understood why the tile was there," he explains. "You see, because it's a maze, the Games this year will require a lot of thinking, deduction, and noticing unnoticeable things. I reckon they moved the plate to an area they knew each Tribute would use to see if they noticed. It looks like I was the only one who did."

I sigh. "_Again_, with your little smart habits. Cut it out."

"I don't mean to be a jerk," he snaps, "But my little habits might just get the both of you out of this arena alive."

I glower at him, but Raven shushes us. "Listen!" I can hear cannon sounds, which mark the death of a Tribute. The bloodbath must be over. By the time all the cannons are fired, I have counted eight.

"Eight Tributes died at the Cornucopia," Raven states the obvious. We wander the maze with Nato telling us where to turn for a couple of hours. At some point, the light coming from the walls begins to fade and before long, it's almost completely dark.

"We should set up camp here," Nato says, taking the backpack off his shoulders. We're standing in a larger room, which pop up every now and then in the maze. As we lay down on the white floor, the Panem anthem plays as the Capitol seal appears directly on the ceiling. We wait to see which Tributes were killed in the bloodbath.

First is the girl from District Five. The one that died in the explosion. Her name was Zaira. Her face disappears from the ceiling to be replaced by Marg's. It's followed by Dane. The pregnant couple died at the Cornucopia. It's horrible. The other dead Tributes are the boy from Seven, the girl from Eight, the boy from Ten, the girl from Eleven, and the boy from Twelve.

"Who's left?" Raven asks sadly.

Nato counts on his fingers. "All the Careers: Velvet, Ruby, Cree, Pyro, and Indigo. You and Monnie from District Three. Grit, the guy from Five. Maple, the girl from Seven. Ray from Eight. Lucya and Olive from Nine. That girl, Foxtrot, from District Ten. Kane from Eleven and that tiny girl, Kaulie, from Twelve." When he finishes talking, the ceiling lights up again. A huge number 3 is displayed.

"What does that mean?" Raven voices my thoughts.

Nato thinks for a minute. "It's the years of freedom we'd get if we all just put down our weapons right now."

"That's not very much," I say grimly.

"Yeah," says Nato, rolling over in his sleep. "Nobody's going to stop killing just for three years."


	35. Chapter 35

**CHAPTER 35** RAVEN

I am woken from my uneasy sleep by a sudden brightness. I blink a couple of times and my eyes focus on my surroundings. We're still in the room that Nato found, with our supplies strewn about the white floor. The bright lights that were absent during the night are now turning on, illuminating the maze. I yawn as Lucya starts stirring on the ground a couple of feet away from me. I sit up and rub the sleep from my eyes. I see that Nato is already up and organizing our stuff.

He throws me a small, silver packet. "Here," he says. "That's your food supply for today." I open the little bag and the smell of fresh food spreads from it. It's a refreshing break from the unnatural, odorless arena we're in. I pour some of the food into my hand. It's mostly nuts, tiny pieces of bread, and dried fruit. I pop some of the mix into my mouth. It's not exactly the tastiest thing I've ever eaten, but I'm hungry and it's really not that bad. Not wanting to waste it all now, I roll up the bag and stick it in one of my pants pockets.

Next to me, Lucya turns over and sits up. "Where'm'I?" she mutters incomprehensively.

Nato throws her another packet of food. "You should eat. We have a long day ahead of us."

I frown. "What do you mean?"

Nato sits down in front of me. "Well, I was thinking that we'd probably want to get as far away from the Cornucopia as possible. That's where most of the Tributes will be. And maybe we can find the end of the maze. I really have no idea, but I feel that maybe the maze is here for a reason. You know, as just a part of the arena and that we, the Tributes, just have to find our way out."

"Yeah, okay, just keep telling yourself that," Lucya comments from my right, and then dumps the whole contents of her food packet into her mouth.

Nato scowls. "What? You don't think there's something else out there?"

Lucya shrugs. "Doesn't make much sense, does it? Just yesterday you were talking about how _the Gamemakers want to contain us_ and whatnot," she cruelly mimics Nato's voice. He looks pretty angry but just sighs.

"Whatever," he says, swinging our white backpack onto his shoulders. "Whatever we do, I don't think it's safe to stay in the same place for too long. We could get found pretty easily, which I'm guessing we don't really want." For once we all agree, and, in a couple of minutes, we've set out back into the maze. Now that we're not frantically running away from the bloodbath, I pay closer attention to the arena. The walls aren't all as smooth and perfect as I thought at first. Every once in a while, I can see small ledges or steps in the sides of the walls. Sometimes there'll be a hook on the ceiling or, rarely, a rectangular hole in a wall big enough for a person to sleep in.

Nato treks ahead with the backpack on his shoulders, leading us through the maze. Lucya and I fall a couple of steps behind.

"He's being just a lot annoying, isn't he?" Lucya whispers. "Kind of a know-it-all?"

I shake my head. "No, not really. I mean, he's been leading us through the maze this entire time, and there's a lot of things we wouldn't have achieved or figured out without his help. You should cut him some slack," I finish, popping a dried banana slice into my mouth. All of a sudden Nato stops and I almost bump into him.

He cranes his head. "Do you guys hear that?" I listen closely and, after several seconds, I hear a quiet buzzing noise. I see Lucya redden as she realizes that, if Nato heard that buzz, he must have heard her harsh words. The buzz grows louder for a bit and then stops. I don't know why, but the tension in the air is unbearable.

Without any warning, a scream pierces through the silence. I jump up, spilling my food all over the floor. I can hear a quiet _swish _and the scream is abruptly cut off. The sound of a cannon rings out across the arena. I look around at Nato and Lucya. We're all visibly shaken. Whatever had caused that Tribute's death, it certainly wasn't human.


	36. Chapter 36

**CHAPTER 36** NATO

As Raven gathers up the nuts and fruit that had fallen out of his hands I exchange tense looks with Lucya. We've been crossing swords ever since we got into the arena, but for now we call a silent truce to worry about the threat looming somewhere in the maze. For the first time since we entered the arena, her blue eyes glow with fear. I realize that she's only brave and fearless in the face of immediate danger. But being unsure or unknowing terrifies her. On that level, we're the same person.

"What was that?" Raven asks, having poured his food back into the small, silver packet. His hand is jittery and several nuts miss the opening of the bag. He doesn't even bother to pick them up.

"I don't know," Lucya admits. "Um. Something that buzzes before attacking?" She shuffles her feet and turns to me. "Nato, do you have any ideas?"

For a second I think it's a joke or an insult, but the look on her face convinces me otherwise. "We can't even be sure it was something. For all we know, it could have been another Tribute. Maybe it was some kind of muttation..." I can't figure anything out. The noises before the Tribute's death sounded different than anything I've ever heard before.

After some silence, Raven tries to get our minds off the _thing _by asking, "So what now? Where do we go?"

"Probably that way," Lucya says, pointing to our left. "We should probably get away from whatever that was." She looks at me as if for confirmation.

"That's the thing," I groan, leaning against the white wall. "Sound is distorted in this arena. We hear everything like it's right next to us and then other things like they're miles away. No sound seems to be coming from where it actually originated."

Lucya looks down at her feet. "Just another way that the Gamemakers are trying to confuse us." She's right. Nothing makes sense in this maze, which, I'm guessing, is exactly how it's supposed to be.

"How about, for now, we just go back the way we came from?" Raven asks shyly. It doesn't seem like a very good idea to me, but I can't think of any better strategies so I agree halfheartedly. This time, Raven leads, his small hands wrapped around the boomerang he has taken a liking to. Lucya draws her sword, just in case, and I see no reason not to hold my own wooden spear. Raven turns the corner that we came from and stops. I look over his shoulder. In front of us stands a polished white wall. And just ten minutes ago we had passed through a hallway in that exact location.

"Are you sure you went the right way, Raven?" Lucya asks, confused.

"Yeah," Raven defends himself. "I remember, it was ri—"

"He's right," I say. "We did come from here."

Lucya crosses her arms. "Then how come it's a dead end?"

There's only one explanation. I don't see how the Gamemakers could possibly keep up with it in such a big arena. "The maze is changing," I say simply. "They're modifying it to beat us off our courses and make it easier to get lost."

Raven groans. "How are we going to find our way?"

"We won't," Lucya says grimly. "We're just going to wander about until the Gamemakers change the tunnels to lead us into battle with some other Tribute. They're basically controlling which way we go."

Suddenly I'm filled with a new kind of determination. "Not if I can help it," I say, turning around. "Let's go." I say it like a command, but not even Lucya protests. She doesn't want to admit it, but even she knows I'm the only one out of the three of us that can navigate the maze. The two of them follow me as I dart through the intricate twists and turns of the arena. Every once in a while we stop to eat or drink from one of the two bottles of water I obtained from the Cornucopia. After several hours we're all exhausted and I feel that the lights in the maze will be shutting off soon.

We find another of those small rooms and decide to stay there for the night. I sit down on the ground and the others sit in front of me. Raven finishes his food and I look into my own silver packet. There are two dried plums inside. I look up at Lucya, who looks like she's really regretting eating all her food this morning. I turn the open package to her.

"You can have it," I smile.

She picks out the two plums and pops them into her mouth. "Thanks, Nato." I store the three empty bags in the large, white backpack and rest my head on it, waiting for the lights to go off.

But they don't. Instead, we hear a quiet sobbing intermingled with small screams. The three of us sit up. It sounds like a girl. I exchange looks with my allies as we listen to her scream. She sounds like she's pleading with someone, but cries of pain break up her sentences. Everything becomes clear when I hear loud laughing. One of the voices is Indigo's.

"What's going on?" Raven asks.

I bury my head between my knees. "The Careers; they're torturing her," I rasp. Another scream from the girl causes a wet tear to run down my nose. "They're playing with their food before they eat it."

It goes on for almost ten minutes before I hear Indigo yell out, "Let me have her!" There's a sound like the drawing of an arrow and then the girl stops screaming. A cannon sounds just as the lights begin to darken. I lie on my back and wipe the salt from my face. Raven is whimpering from his sleeping place a couple of feet away. Even Lucya seems horrified. We all knew that the Hunger Games would end in death for some kids, but this is different. It only shows that the Careers are in it for more than survival.

The Capitol seal flashes above our heads and the Panem anthem plays. I look up into the ceiling. The first face shown is that of the male Tribute from District Eight, Ray. He must have been the one that died this morning. I haven't stopped thinking about what had killed him, and if it'll end up killing me. After that, a girl's face shows up on the dark ceiling. Her name was Foxtrot and she was from District Ten. As I imagine the horror that her friends and family had to watch back in her District, I rub Delta's pendent between my fingers, remembering my own home. Her face disappears and is followed by a huge number 5. Five years of security would be granted to each of us if we all just stopped fighting right now. Knowing how low the chances of that are, I roll over and try to complete the laborious task of falling asleep.


	37. Chapter 37

**CHAPTER 37** LUCYA

I stare up into the slowly brightening ceiling. Nato and Raven must still be asleep, because neither of them have stirred in the hour I've been awake. I refresh my memory of the past two days. Ten Tributes were killed. Olive and Monnie are still alive. Somehow they've managed to survive the bloodbath and the first two days of the Games. It's a comforting feeling, knowing that there's a possibility I might see the both of them again. Really, the feeling is more toward Olive. I've only known him for a couple of days, but he's become something of a younger brother to me. I turn over to where Raven is sleeping on the floor in the fetal position. Sure, we've become rather good friends, but it's not quite like what I feel for Olive. I realize that my relationship with the boy I had promised myself not to mourn has turned into the kind I have with Dee. Funny. Ever since the Games have begun, I've been developing bonds with much more people than usual. Olive. Raven. Monnie. Nato... I roll over to look at him. I'm surprised to see his green eyes are wide open.

"How long have you been awake?" I ask.

"Around an hour longer than you."

"Oh." I don't know what else to say. I feel like I owe him an apology for what I said yesterday. I prop myself up on one elbow. "Hey, Nato... I'm sorry about yesterday. I just... I hate when people are better than me and—"

He smiles. "Stop telling yourself that."

I frown. "What?"

"That you're inferior to me. Because you're not. It's a ridiculous thing to say."

I smile back at him. He doesn't mention anything about the unjust accusations I've been throwing in his face for the past two days. For some strange reason he's already forgiven and forgotten. Raven and I don't just need him because he'll lead us through the maze. We need him because he keeps us together; keeps us sane.

Raven begins stirring on the ground next to me. We decide to eat a small breakfast and set off back into the maze. It doesn't take long to see that Nato was right yesterday. None of the tunnels we're walking through are even slightly similar to how I remember them. I wonder if he was also right about the fact that there's something beyond the maze. I dismiss the idea. Managing an arena like this is difficult enough, with all the changing passages and wandering Tributes to keep track of.

Nato stops at the intersection of several passages. I count the white hallways branching off from where the three of us are standing. Eight different entrances. I look at Nato, desperately hoping that he knows where to go, but his confused expression tells the story.

"The Cornucopia is that way." He points to our left. "At least, I think it is..."

"Should we just go anywhere?" Raven asks. "I mean, we've got nothing to lose..."

Nato shakes his head. "No, I don't want to fall off of our track. We've been doing so well for the past two days." He and Raven continue to discuss the different possibilities and eliminate some of the eight passages. As they ramble on, I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Drawing my sword from its sheath, I turn around. All I see is the empty tunnel from which we came. I could've sworn I felt someone watching me. I try to tell myself it was nothing and turn back around to where the guys are standing. Raven is still talking, but Nato doesn't look like he's listening. His eyes keep darting behind my back, like he had felt the presence as well.

"Let's go this way," Nato says uncertainly, gesturing towards the passage directly to our right. He still looks panicked; Raven, however, is blissfully unaware of the tension. The three of us enter the hallway just as I hear some kind of scuffling from behind me.

"GO!" I yell, pushing a confused Raven forward. Nato must've heard the noise, too, because he runs ahead, constantly changing direction in the maze. Raven looks disoriented but he knows better than to fall behind, so he runs after the two of us. Nato weaves between the different doorways and passages at a quick pace until we're all panting. Nato leans up against one of the walls and Raven slumps down onto the floor. I double over.

"I think we lost it," I wheeze.

"Lost what?" Raven says, accepting the bottle of water handed to him by Nato. He takes a small sip and passes it on to me.

"I don't know," I say, and drink a tiny amount of the cool water.

"Either it was another Tribute or some Gamemaker-made thing," Nato shares his thoughts. "Whatever it was, I think it may have been following us for a while. And I got the feeling that it didn't have good intentions."

Raven nods. "So it looks like we got away from it. What do we do now?"

Someone cries out from some place far from where we are. Nato turns around and our eyes lock. I know that there are only two Tributes in the arena who could scream like that, one of which is still lying on the ground next to me. Without any warning, Nato jumps on me and pins me to the ground. His strong hands cover my ears and block out the scream. His lips are moving, but I can't hear a thing. I squirm out of his grip and kick his leg. He falls off of me and his hands uncover my ears just in time for me to hear the sound of a cannon boom out across the arena. Nato and Raven are looking at me with sympathy, but their own eyes are welling up with tears.

I had promised myself, at the Reaping, that I wouldn't even flinch when Olive's cannon rang out during the Games. Breaking that promise to myself, I curl into a ball and start sobbing.


	38. Chapter 38

**CHAPTER 38** NATO

I look over at Raven as Lucya sobs next to us. His grey eyes are full of concern and small tears are forming at the corners. I take a deep breath. Although my heart pangs for Olive, I know I have to keep a strong resolve, especially when Lucya, the toughest one of us all, is in such a state. I have to pull the three of us through this because it'll be happening more and more often for the next several weeks. Not wanting to interrupt on Lucya's grief, I sit down against the wall and close my eyes. I wonder what got her so attached to the boy; she'd only known him for a couple of days. Of course, I would be just as horrified if, for say, Raven were killed, but Lucya is a different person than I am. Love doesn't exactly seem to be in her nature. I open my eyes to look at her, pitifully sobbing on the ground. The Games have obviously changed her. They'll change each and every one of us.

Lucya lifts her head from its rest on her knees; her face is covered be a mass of unruly black hair. I prepare a sympathetic, bracing smile as she parts her hair. The smile freezes on my face as she looks up at me. Her eyes are nothing like I expected. They're teary and red, yes, but there's more than the pain and sorrow that was evident from her sobs. Her eyes are charged with cold electricity, radiating pure anger. Taking heavy intakes of breath, she wipes the tears from her face and sweeps her hair behind her ears. She stands up and I realize she's shaking with what I can only imagine is uncontrolled anger. I notice that her knuckles are white from gripping the hilt of her sword. She looks positively dangerous, standing over the two of us, looking ready to draw her sword at any moment.

"Who did it?" Her voice is quiet, soft even, but it pierces through me like a dozen polished daggers. It's the cold voice of a Career, of a hunter preparing to take down its prey.

"I don't know," I don't turn my sight away from her blazing eyes. "There weren't any voices besides Olive's."

"We're going to find them," she says, picking up the backpack. She's slowly becoming less cold.

"What?" Raven whimpers, looking absolutely frightened.

"We're going to find them," Lucya pulls her sword out of its sheath and glazes over it with her sight, "And kill them." With a strong thrust, she stabs the sword into the smooth, white wall to her left. It stays in the wall, slightly bobbing. The walls had always looked rather impenetrable to me. The precision and strength it must have taken to slice into it must have been incredible.

"It won't bring him back," I say, slowly standing up. "Vengeance won't solve anything."

"Vengeance," Lucya hisses, "is all I know." Pulling the sword from its place in the wall and slinging the pack onto her back, she turns round to where the sound had come from. "Let's go." The direction is opposite of where I've been leading us these whole couple of days, but I figure that now isn't the best time to cross her. Raven looks at me, nervous and confused. I nod.

"Come on Raven," I say as he takes my hand and I pull him up from where he was sitting on the floor. We follow Lucya and I decide that, today, I'll let her lead. She knows, more or less, what she's doing. I've come to realize that anger and cruelty clear her mind and allow her to think straight and to do things independently. She weaves through the maze for the next hour or so. I can tell from her slightly hesitant movements and shrouded face that she doesn't know here she's going; she's lost. The lightning has completely faded from her eyes and has been replaced by fear. But she won't give up; she won't admit that she can't do this on her own.

"Lucya," I say softly. She stops walking. "I think the lights will be going off soon, maybe we should just find a wider tunnel and set up camp." I know it shouldn't be at least two more hours until night sets in, but relief washes across her face.

"Okay. Good idea." She sends me a smile, thanking me for saving her own pride.

"So where do we—"Raven trails off as an arrow imbeds itself an inch away from his head. I push him behind me and turn to where the arrow came from. Indigo is standing some distance down the passage, drawing another.

"You two go first. I'll tell you what to do," I tell Raven and Lucya as we back away from Indigo. "I know how we can lose her." They nod slowly and continue to back down the passage as Indigo approaches us. An arrow whizzes past my ear. "Turn around. Go faster," I whisper. "But don't go too far as that I can't see you." Lucya takes Raven by the hand and they jog down the tunnel. Indigo is getting closer and closer, so I start to walk faster. Of course, it would be easier if I weren't walking backwards. She notches an arrow and raises her bow; I easily dodge the arrow by dusking down.

"Come on, Indigo!" I yell. "Ten years of training and that's all you've got?" Her face gets red and she fires another arrow in my direction. This time, her aim is so bad that I don't even have to dodge it. Good. She's proven to me that anger affects her reasoning. I continue to walk backwards. I can sense the other two a couple of meters behind me. "Why are you here alone anyway? Shouldn't you be with your Career buddies?" I taunt.

She reaches behind her back to grab yet another valuable arrow. "The walls changed. I got cut off."

"Oh, and you couldn't figure out how to make your way through the maze all alone, could you?" I fake a smirk. She's twitching with anger by now, and her arrow sails harmlessly next to my hip. "You know, if they wanted to find you, they probably could." My witty insults are running out, but I look behind her back and, to my satisfaction, I can see that so are her arrows. "That one kid, Pyro, he looked pretty clever. If you were beneficial to the team at all, he would've been able to find you."

She gives an angry shriek and lets loose another arrow, which I deflect with the point of my sword. I count the remaining ones in the sheath slung over her shoulders; she only has three left. Now is the time to finish off my plan. I turn around, running. I can see Lucya and Raven far ahead in the tunnel.

"Wait!" I yell, and they stop in their tracks. Eventually, I catch up to them. I feel the _swish _of an arrow near my head and then see it plant itself in the wall next to Raven. I push past them to the front of the group and run off. They follow me. I turn left into another passage. It goes on in front of us, but I duck into a small, side room that leads off it. The three of us enter the room and I signal Lucya and Raven to stay quiet. I can hear Indigo running through the maze. She passes the doorway to our little room. Just as expected, she doesn't stop to look into it. _It's time you started noticing details, Indigo, _I think.

I leave the room, making sure Lucya and Raven are behind me. "Hey, Indigo." She stops in her tracks and turns around.

"How...?" she seems confused and cornered, even though the passage stretches out behind her back. She gets over the shock quickly and raises her bow. I slowly walk closer to her, drawing my spear to look menacing. Raven and Lucya must've taken the hint, because I hear the sound of weapons being drawn behind me. Indigo backs away from us to get a better aim and probably just to get away from us.

"You only have two arrows left, Indigo," I say, trying to sound murderous. Indigo shoots the arrow and it misses all three of us.

I hear Lucya's voice from my right. "Make that one." The coldness in her tone is utterly convincing and I wonder if it's real. She might think there's a chance that Indigo killed Olive. The three of us keep on walking down the passage, and I feel like we're in an alley, a gang cornering some helpless victim. I'm not being fair to myself, Indigo's the one who wouldn't mind killing us. All I want to do is to get her to use up all her arrows and flee.

Indigo backs up further down the hallway and I feel there's something different in the air. I look around as Indigo slowly reaches behind her back. Everything happens so slowly. She pulls the last arrow out of its sheath as I take in where we've found ourselves. The slits in the walls flanking Indigo. The dried blood on the floor behind her. The short, cut-off scream before Ray's death. The thin, drawn line just behind Indigo's right foot. And now I can hear it, too, the soft, mechanical humming...

"Indigo, don't!" I yell out, but it's too late. She notches the arrow and steps back to take her aim. Her foot crosses the thin line on the floor. The razor-sharp blades spiral out of the walls.


	39. Chapter 39

**CHAPTER 39** RAVEN

None of us speak as we walk away from the scene of Indigo's death. I try to get the events I've just witnessed out of my head, but nothing will block out the horrifying image of the white walls painted scarlet and the floor becoming nothing more than a pool of red paint. Desperately, I look back down at my shirt. It's wet from the tiny amount of water Nato had given me to wash it down, but the dried blood is still visible. I close my eyes for some time, trying to imagine a more peaceful place. It doesn't work; I'm stuck in this horrible reality, one that will haunt me for the rest of my life. Of course, I'm not expecting that to be a very long time.

When I open my eyes, I see that Nato and Lucya have stopped and are setting up camp for the night. The silence is unbearable. I want to say something, but what can I say? They've both lost their District partners today. Even though I could tell that he and Indigo weren't close, Nato looks heartbroken. After all, he had tried to save her life by warning her. Even though she was a major threat. I consider for a moment if I would have done the same thing. She was our enemy, and it easily took her off our backs without us having to do anything... Shocked with myself, I realize that I'm not sorry about what happened at all. It brings the three of us (and hopefully, Monnie too) so much closer to getting out of this arena alive. And, besides, I didn't even know Indigo. It was all for the best...

Disgusted with myself, I slide down the wall onto the ground. How could I have even thought that? I close my eyes and rub them with my fists. I just want the Games to be over; I want to go home; I don't want to die...

The Panem anthem stirs me from my reflections. I open my eyes to look up into the darkening ceiling. The Capitol seal fades away and Indigo's face is shown. I look at its reflection in Nato's eyes. I can see the pain and regret in them, as well as the guilt. I want to tell him that he shouldn't feel responsible for Indigo's death; he had done everything he could. Instead, I look back up into the sky, where Olive's face is being displayed. I look over at Lucya, who isn't staring up at the ceiling like the rest of us. But her face is, once again, distorted from anger. It was a tough day. I glance back up at the ceiling, where the number 4 is just disappearing.

I know I won't be able to, but I lie down on the floor and try to get to sleep.

When I wake up, Nato and Lucya are already up and about. The sudden growl from my stomach prompts me to open up our backpack and take out a packet of food. I notice that we don't have much left. Including the one I had taken out, there are only six silver packets. I fish out the water bottle we've been drinking out of, too. It's relatively light; there must not be a lot of water left inside.

"Guys, we only have six food packs and about one and a quarter bottles of water..." I comment, taking note of the fact that starvation may kill us off just as easily as the other Tributes.

"Then we'll have to start rationing it," Nato says, walking over to me. Both he and Lucya seem to have come to terms with last night's events. "I think we should try to eat only one pack of food a day, split between the three of us. We might be hungrier, but the food will last longer."

"Okay," I agree as my stomach protests.

Nato smiles at me. "We'll eat a bit later, Raven. Around noon."

I nod. "So what now? Where do we go?"

Nato scratches his head. "Um... yesterday, I kind of... lost track of where we were..." Behind him, Lucya looks down at the floor. It's technically her fault that we wandered off track last night. Nato speaks again, "Either way, I think I'll be able to lead us out more. I'm not positive, but I think all we have to do is go straight ahead that way," He points to the passage in front of us. "That should lead away from the Cornucopia... and, if not, I'm sure that eventually, we'll figure it out."

We set off in the direction he had pointed out. We don't really talk much; it's not like we ever had. Every once in a while I throw my boomerang and watch as it gracefully curves around and returns to me.

"You're pretty good with that, Raven," Nato tells me after seeing me throw it a couple of times. "It's a tight tunnel; it's amazing how you can make it curve around in such a small space."

"Thanks," I say, relieved to finally have found something I'm good at. My stomach growls again, and we decide to stop and eat. Lucya takes the backpack off her shoulders and opens it, looking at Nato.

"How much can we take?" she asks him.

He shrugs. "I don't know. Six... that's a really small amount. It's almost guaranteed that we'll be in here for at least two weeks, and this is only the fourth day... I think we should just take one packet and split it." When he finishes, Lucya takes out one of the silver bags and cuts it open with her hunting knife. The smell of fresh food reaches my nostrils and I want to throw my hand into the packet and eat it all out. Instead, I wait for Lucya to evenly distribute the mix into our hands. Then she takes a drink out of the metal water bottle and passes it to Nato. He takes a sip and gives it to me. I feel the last of the water drip down my throat. I give the empty bottle back to Nato, who puts in back in the backpack, in case we find another source of water. I know we still have a whole other bottle, but we're going through our supplies way too fast. On the first day of the Games, I had felt so confident that we had everything we needed. Now, I'm starting to see that's not the case.

We eat quietly. There's been tension between the three of us ever since Olive's death. The Games are already snowballing, and I know that we'll encounter multiple deaths before (and if) we get out of the arena. I don't want us to drift apart; I don't want to be left alone in the arena. I wonder how much of my feelings are sentiment and how much are the desire to survive. About an equal proportion, I decide. That's rather reasonable, I guess. That is the whole point of the Hunger Games, isn't it?

As we finish up our food mix, I feel some kind of weird tension. The back of my neck feels cold. I turn behind me, into the tunnel from which we came from. There's nothing there but an intersection a couple of yards down, but I knew that I was being watched. I turn back around to face Lucya and Nato, who have obviously noticed it, too. This must have been what they felt yesterday morning, because Lucya has already picked up the backpack and Nato is slowly walking down the next tunnel, away from where we had felt the presence. Some kind of intuition tells me that it was another Tribute. Another feeling told me it was the murderous type.

Nato is already rather far down the opposite tunnel, so I quickly get up and follow. The three of us turn the corner and break out into a run, winding through the different passages. We stop a couple of times to listen for footsteps and then start running again. After some time, we slow down to a jog.

"Do—you—think—it was following—us?" Lucya says between intakes of breath.

"Probably," Nato replies, wheezing.

"Do you—think it still—is?" I wonder aloud, also panting.

As we reach an intersection, Nato looks over his shoulder at me and opens his mouth to say something; however, his words are cut off. At the intersection, the three of us are knocked over by something in the way. I fall to the side and Nato trips over my foot. I realize that whatever we had bumped into was a person. I hear a scream, but it sounds like a little girl's. The person we had run into had looked nothing like a little girl. I get up from the ground only to get the wind knocked out of me; someone had punched me in the stomach. When I open my eyes, I see Lucya draw her sword. We all untangle ourselves from one another and stand up.

Nato, Lucya and I stand on one side of the intersection. The person we had bumped into backs away from us. I realize it's Velvet, the tall, broody-looking Career from District One. The tiny girl in his arms also reveals the source of the scream. He's holding her in front of him like a shield. I remember her darker skin and eyes; she's Kaulie from Twelve. Velvet smiles at the three of us and draws a knife up to Kaulie's throat. Her brown eyes fill to the brim with fear.

"Let her go," Nato says fiercely.

"I don't know if you noticed, _Four_," Velvet sneers. His voice is deep and pompous, "but this isn't exactly a democracy." Small beads of blood form at the edge of his knife and Kaulie whimpers.

"Velvet," Lucya's voice is strong and firm, but there's a hint of desperation. She doesn't want any more blood to be spilt. "Just let her go. We'll fight you; just let her go."

"And what good is that?" Velvet retaliates coldly. "I don't think the odds would be in my favor if I faced all three of you. But now, now I'm safe and sound behind the prospect of this here girl's beheading." He smirks as Kaulie's eyes fill up with tears. She looks at me, as if trying to get me to help her. I try to send her comforting signals just through sight, but I know that her chances of survival are very limited. Her fear and anxiety is evident in her brown eyes, but I can see other things. Innocence. Intelligence. And, also, an odd type of familiarity. I feel like I know her, but I'm positive I've never looked her in the eyes before in my life. Only then do I notice that there's something else in her eyes... a mischievous glint.

It all happens in a tiny frame of time. Kaulie's arm shoots up to Velvet's wrist. He screams out in pain and drops the knife, blood pouring from the wound. Then she escapes his grip and stabs; once, twice, three times, four times; in his neck, in his stomach, in his shoulder, in his chest. And then, just as quickly, she slips the tiny switchblade back into her pocket. The front of her shirt is drenched with Velvet's blood, with some dripping down her chin. She smiles, and, just like that, she's gone.


	40. Chapter 40

**CHAPTER 40** LUCYA

Raven, Nato, and I exchange glances. Raven looks completely caught off guard, and Nato's face is grim. We had all known that the Careers would be a problem, but we'd never had expected anyone else to become murderous in the arena. Really, I'm sure I would have done the same if I had been in Kaulie's situation. In the end, it's just a matter of survival. But, then again, the sadistic smirk that crossed her face before she darted back into the maze convinced me that she hadn't killed Velvet just to get out alive.

Nato kneels down next to Velvet, who is squirming on the ground, his hands grasping at the gash in his neck. Nato grimaces. It's obviously fatal. Maybe if the cuts weren't so deep I'd be able to help him. But I don't think I would; he's a Career, he would just kill us anyway. So we watch, helpless, as Velvet struggles for his last breaths of air. Blood gurgles out of his mouth. Nato looks away, I'm guessing from the nausea, but I've seen cases just as bad back home in the fields. Slowly, Velvet stops struggling. I hear the sound of a cannon somewhere in the distance. I look at Nato.

"We should go," he says. His voice is hoarse. He turns around and, carefully stepping over Velvet's still body, enters the passage before us. Raven and I follow. Kaulie had gone a different way, but generally in the same direction. I wonder if we'll run into her again. I hope not. She's shown herself to be a quick, sneaky fighter; I'd be a lot better at facing something head-on. Everyone in the arena probably has different fighting styles; Nato would certainly be able to adapt to them, and I'm starting to think that Raven would, too. But me? I'm not so sure. I decide not to dwell on those thoughts and focus about following Nato.

He's pretty far ahead of me and Raven and obviously wants to be alone. He must be pretty shaken up. He's too weak... emotionally, that is. I could tell the moment he tried to save Indigo from the booby trap and when he had kneeled down next to Velvet when he died. Nato forgives too easily, and forms bonds too quickly as well. It won't prove to be an asset in the Games. Sentiment could easily get him killed, along with me and Raven. He'd better snap out of it; it'll be easier for all of us.

"It's getting darker," Nato remarks. "I saw a larger room a couple of minutes back; I think we should go there for the night." Raven and I agree and we head back through the maze and find the room. There's a small crevice halfway up one of the walls, large enough for a person to lie down in. I climb into it and settle my head against the side, waiting for the lights to go out completely. Raven sits up against the wall next to my "bed" while Nato stands in front of us awkwardly.

"Look, guys," he starts. "I know I might regret this, but, well, I don't know exactly how to put this... Even though we're working as a team... I feel like we aren't really agreeing or connecting, you know, normally..."

I raise an eyebrow. _We're stuck in the middle of a deadly labyrinth and he's worried about making friends?_

Nato continues, "I know a lot of it is probably on my part. I know I've been awfully quiet and uncommunicative, but that's because, well, the recent events we've witnessed... They were tough."

"Well, _really?_" I say sarcastically. "Look Nato, if you don't get your head out of the clouds, we're never going to make it out of here in one piece. Did you really think that seeing Velvet and Indigo get killed was just going to be a one-time thing? I know you're a big softie or whatever, but you better get used to it."

Nato crosses his arms over his chest. "_Get my head out of the clouds, _Lucya?" he retaliates angrily. "Just because I have a heart doesn't make me clueless. Do you really think that I don't realize what's going on? Do you think I've been blissfully unaware that people are going to die? I don't know if you've realized, but I'm the only one out of the three of us that has actually been _doing _something for the past four days! I got the supplies, I got the weapons, I led us through the maze; where would you be without _me_, Lucya?!" He yells as the walls darken behind him. "Huh?"

I hang my legs out of my ledge. "I don't know; probably fighting the other Tributes, looking for places to refresh my supplies and not just waiting _here for my food to run out_!" By now I'm standing on the ground. Raven looks up at the both of us but doesn't intervene. Overhead, Velvet's face and a large number 4 flash out of sight.

Nato looks at me, and I see that his eyes aren't angry anymore. He sits down on the floor. "That's not what I wanted," he says softly.

"About time you learned that you won't always get what you want, princess."

Nato doesn't say anything. I look down at the desolate, hopeless way his shoulders sag. I know I've crossed a certain line. He's right; Raven and I wouldn't be able to make it two feet without his help, and denying it might only hurt his confidence and screw up his strategies. He's not hurting us for being too soft, I'm hurting us for being so tough on him.

"Nato, I'm sorry."

He looks up at me and smiles. "You don't have to apologize, Lucya." His smile is friendly but doesn't travel to his eyes, which remain hurt and empty. "It was stupid of me... to think it's possible to grow some kind of friendship in a place like this. It's probably better to just... not get attached." It's ridiculously obvious that he thinks a lot differently, but he might just be trying to avoid another argument. "It's late, and we need strength for tomorrow. Good night."

He turns over into a more comfortable position and becomes quiet. Raven doesn't need to be told twice, and falls to sleep almost immediately. I climb up into my little bed nook and try to clear my head, a task which I soon find to be impossible. I roll over and look down at Nato. He's turned away from me, but I can tell he hasn't found sleep, either. I think about what he'd said earlier. Maybe getting attached to people wasn't the worst thing in the world. I want to believe this, but Olive's face keeps looming before my eyes like that of a ghost. I remember the moment I heard his cannon, the moment I realized that his life had come to a violent end. I remember how much it hurt me, and how much I cried that day. But that's not really all there is to it. Hadn't it felt good, for the few days I spent with him, to develop a bond, to care for him, to _love_? For most of my life, Dee had been the only person I cared for, the only person that I loved and who loved me back. And the feeling, that bright, heart-lifting feeling, that I felt every time I was around her, wasn't that ten times stronger than any remorse I've felt since I entered the arena?

And now I may never see Dee again. But there are still people who love me. Olive, even though his part in the Games is over. Raven, who cares despite his mood swings and occasional rudeness. Hell, maybe even Missy loves me.

And Nato.

I can do the same, can't I? I can love them back; I can be happy for what may be the last few days I get to live.

My face feels salty, and my eyes puffy, but I can't help but smile. _You've become such a wus, Lucya, _I tell myself, and laugh quietly. With a feeling of light-heartedness I hadn't felt since I've entered the arena, I slip out of the nook in the wall and lie down next to Nato. He rolls around without opening his eyes and smiles lightly, without doing anything else to acknowledge my presence. He doesn't need to. As I slowly fall to sleep, the white walls and ceiling of the arena swirl into a blur, and for a brief shining moment, I'm home.


End file.
